


remember (when we were young)

by neoragodestiny



Series: remember (when we were young) [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoragodestiny/pseuds/neoragodestiny
Summary: au. Seungcheol and Jihoon married young, and over time they’ve drifted apart. When Seungcheol presents Jihoon with the files to divorce, Jihoon has one requirement: they spend thirty days together, like when they were younger. But is it enough for them to remember what it felt like to love each other, all those years ago?





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: this is a crosspost [[AFF](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1122652/remember-when-we-were-young) and [LJ](https://scripted-dream.livejournal.com/tag/series%3A%20we%20chose%20each%20other)]  
> the whole idea is Lae’s (@iamsupercoups), she just gave me permission to write it. I hope I did it justice. Title is inspired by [17!ginko’s video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSoaupidK84)
> 
> this fic is not based on any other fics. if there is another fic with a similar plot, then it is purely coincidence.

They were twenty-two, barely a year out of college. On a rainy day, Seungcheol and Jihoon exchanged rings and vows to be together for life. The smiles on their faces were the brightest thing Jihoon had ever seen.

That was six years ago.

Seungcheol works as a district manager for an import company. Jihoon works as a producer and mentor to some of the biggest entertainers in the country.

Jihoon thinks their different work and long, unmatching hours are the reason they’ve drifted apart. He doesn’t want to believe it can be anything else.

He doesn’t want to believe Seungcheol has stopped loving him.

It’s six years, ten months and sixteen days into their marriage when Jihoon comes home on a Tuesday night to find Seungcheol still awake, sitting at their small kitchen table with a pile of papers in front of him. It’s four thirty in the morning. Seungcheol usually leaves the house at six thirty.

“Why are you up?” Jihoon asks, calming himself down from thinking someone had broken into their apartment.

“I had something to talk to you about, in person,” Seungcheol says. He looks exhausted. He’s looked tired for the past month though - at least, from what Jihoon can tell from his sleeping face, when Jihoon climbs into their shared bed at ungodly hours of the morning.

“It couldn’t wait until the weekend?” Jihoon asks. Often, one of them will have to work on the weekend, neither of them working jobs that has much a sense of “the working week”, and last minute looming deadlines would often pull them away from each other too. But even when they are both actually home, they usually just act like amicable roommates. It hurts to see, when they sit on opposite ends of the couch to watch movies, or random reruns on TV. They used to cuddle through every movie marathon, or Seungcheol would pull Jihoon into his lap as Jihoon fed him popcorn.

“I wanted to give you as much time as possible to think about it,” Seungcheol says. Jihoon’s heart feels like lead in his chest, even though he doesn’t know why he’s so scared, so worried. He sits down opposite Seungcheol.

“What is it?” Jihoon sighs heavily. Whatever it is, he wants to get it over and done with. He’s so tired. He got screamed at by the artist, her manager _and_ his supervisor, for something that wasn’t even his fault. It's been a long day.

Seungcheol pushes the papers across to him. Jihoon looks at the title, and for a moment it doesn't register. He thinks he's so tired he’s hallucinating now. But the words “Application for Divorce” remain on the page, staring back at him like a lost child.

All Jihoon can process is the feeling of an ice cold hand wrapping around his heart, clenching, twisting and ripping the organ clean out of his chest, leaving a shell behind.

“I’ve signed it,” Seungcheol says, like Jihoon will realise he’s serious about it. Jihoon thinks he's always known, but tried to play ignorant. Now it was finally here to stab him in the back.

“Let me think about it,” Jihoon whispers out. His lips feel numb, like he's stood out in the winter cold for hours. It's summer.

Seungheol’s smile is robotic. “Of course. That was the plan. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about it.”

Jihoon doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to talk about it.

“You look like a wreck,” Jeonghan says when Seungcheol turns up to work in the morning. He's stirring freshly brewed coffee, leaning against the wall by Seungcheol’s door. He periodically comes by to talk. Seungcheol still doesn't understand why.

“I didn’t sleep,” he answers simply, grabbing the pile of documents left on his secretary's desk for him.

“That’s unusual. You usually sleep like a log,” Jeonghan answers with a short laugh, brushing stray hair from his face and going back to sipping his coffee. “Jihoon came back late?”

“At four thirty,” Seungcheol says, flicking through the documents.

“You know?”

“I talked to him,”

Jeonghan stares at him. “You stayed up until four in the morning to talk to Jihoon?!” He asks, incredulous.

“Sometimes he comes back at midnight, sometimes he’s not back by the time I leave, it varies,” Seungcheol answers coolly.

“Do you always stay up for him?” Jeonghan asks. Seungcheol has always had bags under his eyes, but never like this. Not like his whole body is drooping from the lack of rest.

“No,” Seungcheol answers too quickly and Jeonghan frowns at him.

“Seungcheol, hold on. What’s going on?”

The dark haired male just glares at him, clearly communicating he has no interest in discussing this, but Jeonghan just folds his arms and moves to stand in front of Seungcheol’s door.

“Before your supervisor, I am your friend, and Jihoon’s too. Is there something going on between you two? Are you having a fight? I haven’t seen Jihoon in years. You never bring him to work parties,”

“He has his own life, Jeonghan. He’s not my pet,” Seungcheol mutters, trying to push past.

Jeonghan stubbornly blocks him. “Seungcheol,” he says lowly, almost a warning.

Seungcheol sighs. “I stayed up because I handed him the divorce papers.”

Jeonghan is so shocked, Seungcheol sneaks past, entering his office happily, shutting the door behind him.

Jeonghan recovers soon after and wrenches the door open.

“What do you mean ‘divorce papers’, Seungcheol?!” he hisses. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol says coolly, like he’s just deciding a business matter. “I’m serious.”

Jeonghan flings his arms around dramatically as he speaks. “Divorce? With Jihoon? Are you crazy, Seungcheol?!”

Seungcheol sighs, puts his pen down and meets Jeonghan’s gaze. “I decided last week, I showed Jihoon the papers this morning, and you’re too loud and dramatic and need to get out of my office.”

Jeonghan grabs the new pile of papers on Seungcheol’s desk, throws them at his face and storms out.

“So I heard from Jeonghan,” Jisoo, at least, is quiet about it, when he calls Seungcheol at lunchtime. Seungcheol just sighs.

“Please don’t scream at me. I’ve already got a headache from Jeonghan’s passive aggressive anger,” Seungcheol says, leaning back heavily in his chair.

Jisoo’s gentle laughter spills from his phone. “No, I won’t. I do want to ask why though,” Jisoo says. “I know we haven’t kept in touch that much over the years, but it still seems very uncharacteristic, of you specifically, and you both together.”

Seungcheol just sighs heavily.

“I’m just… I’m so tired of it, Jisoo. I barely see him; it’s like a ghost of another person living in the apartment. When we _are_ in the apartment together, we barely talk. We’re worse than strangers. It’s tiring.”

“I look at him and I should feel happiness, I should feel sad when we’re apart, I should feel _something_. But I don’t. I just feel…. tired.”

“And I tried, Jisoo. Sometimes we have dinners together on the weekend, but they’re just awkward. I can't talk to him, when we used to talk all the time, about anything and everything. I can’t remember the last time we kissed, or even hugged. It’s like we’re in different worlds. How is that marriage? It’s not even friendship anymore.”

“Whatever we had, it’s gone. So there’s no point in slapping a label on us that binds us to each other when we have nothing to do with each other.”

Jihoon stares at the hint of his reflection in the glass that looks into the recording studio. He can see the lines and dark circles on his face from years of inadequate sleep, from unspoken thoughts that were never voiced out.

Jihoon stands as the artist walks into the room and bows to him. His smile is perfectly practiced, just like it is when he's around Seungcheol; when he actually _sees_ Seungcheol.

Perfect strangers. Not even friends anymore. How did they go from the picture perfect best friends who dated and then got married, to being more distant than strangers?

Jihoon can see why Seungcheol wants divorce. What's left of _them_ anymore? Just bittersweet memories and the binding of their marriage vows that they exchanged over six years ago, when they were young and naive.

Jihoon wonders if he had said something earlier, maybe they could have talked it out. Maybe they could have _tried_ to fix it. Because this feels like giving up too quickly.

But Seungcheol has decided. He’s done. He doesn’t want to try, or he’s been trying and Jihoon hasn’t realised. Seungcheol has made up his mind, and Jihoon doubts he can change it - if anyone can be more stubborn than Jihoon, it’s Seungcheol.

But still, he doesn’t want to end it like this.

He knows he can’t fix what happened between them, but he can at least go with some dignity, right?

“One more time,” he tells the singer over the intercom into the recording booth.

 _One more time_ , he tells himself.

A week later, Jihoon walks into the apartment as Seungcheol is preparing to leave.

“Oh, hey,” Seungcheol says, smiling a little. Jihoon smiles back tiredly.

Seungcheol fixes his tie and checks it in the reflection from the fridge before grabbing his briefcase.

“Hey,”

Seungcheol falters from reaching for his shoes.

“I’ll sign it,” Jihoon says, eyes flicking down to his feet, “But I have one condition.”

He knows Seungcheol is wondering what he’ll ask for. The apartment? It’s under Seungcheol’s name. The studio equipment? That’s Jihoon’s, and Seungcheol doesn’t know how to use it anyway. They haven’t made music together in years.

“Thirty days,” Jihoon says, finally liftng his gaze, “and in those thirty days, we do things like we used to,”

“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asks.

Jihoon runs a hand through his hair. “We spend thirty days together. Minimal or no work. We go on dates like when we were younger, revisit places.” He smiles ruefully. “Think of it like, the opposite to the first month of dating or marriage - it’ll be our last,” he meets Seungcheol’s gaze, and offers a broken smile. “Let me have something to remember our time together. I don’t want to only have memories of not seeing you, of barely talking. I don’t want to remember being barely more than strangers.”

“I’m taking leave,” Seungcheol announces to Jeonghan the next day. “Starting from next week,”

“What?!” Jeonghan nearly drops his pile of papers. “What are you talking about?”

“The divorce papers with Jihoon. He’s agreed to sign it on the condition that for the next month we spend time together, like a proper farewell to our time together. So I’m taking time off,” Seungcheol says coolly.

Jeonghan feels his heart sink. “He agreed?”

“On the condition of thirty days together, yeah,” Seungcheol answers, not even looking up from his papers. “He said he wanted to remember what it used to be like, to have good memories when we part.”

 _To say goodbye to their time together, or to salvage what's left of their marriage?_ Jeonghan wonders. He watches Seungcheol carefully, but the dark haired male doesn't take any notice. “Okay,” Jeonghan manages to choke out, “if you give me the leave form today, I'll approve it,”

Seungcheol just nods and even Jeonghan feels the cold. If Seungcheol has become this cold to him, who he sees every day, how cold has he become to Jihoon?

Jeonghan sighs and leaves Seungcheol’s office, pulling out his phone and calling Jisoo.

He has to update his husband on the new development. He doesn't think he can get through the day with the realisation that Seungcheol and Jihoon might be getting divorced.

 _Not might, will,_ a voice in his head says, but Jeonghan ignores it.

How can two people like Seungcheol and Jihoon, who used to have conversations all day, full of inside jokes, and shared laughter, who used to finish each other’s sentences, who used to look at each other with stars in their eyes - how can those two get divorced?

Jeonghan believes in fate, believes in love, believes Seungcheol and Jihoon are meant for each other. And the notion that all those things he believes in are wrong feels like something sharp constricting in his chest.

As Jisoo answers the phone with that calm, gentle voice of his that Jeonghan loves so much, Jeonghan lets out a sob. The feeling in his chest tightens. It feels like thorns.


	2. two

Seeing Jihoon actually _awake_ at eight AM when Seungcheol gets out of bed, on the first of their thirty days, is a surprise in itself. The second surprise being that Jihoon is attempting to cook pancakes and Seungcheol thinks he's going to burn the whole apartment down. So he gets over his surprise and takes the frypan and spatula from Jihoon’s hands, murmuring that he’ll do it. He easily pulls both items out of Jihoon’s reach and the smaller scowls, fruitlessly standing on his tiptoes and trying to grab it. Seungcheol just grins and tells him to set the table instead.

It's only when he hears the clatter of Jihoon rummaging through the cutlery drawer, does Seungcheol realise he just grinned at Jihoon, and the slight playful banter they had over the frypan is something that hasn't happened in over four years, ever since they stopped being able to have breakfast together.

“You're up early today,” Seungcheol comments when Jihoon has set the table and is now hovering behind Seungcheol as he flips pancakes.

“We have things to do,” Jihoon says simply, but Seungcheol can see the exhaustion that clings to him. He wonders if Jihoon slept. He knows not to ask.

“So what's the plan today?” he asks instead, as Jihoon carries pancake-loaded plates to their kitchen table. Seungcheol can't remember the last time they actually shared a meal on it - when they're both home, they usually just eat in front of the TV. Sometimes Jihoon will lock himself in the home studio, and if he remembers to eat, it's five minutes over the kitchen sink before he's gone again.  
Jihoon hands him the maple syrup and Seungcheol sees the glimmer of his wedding band. He doesn’t understand why he’s surprised that Jihoon still wears it. It’s not like he stopped, but part of him feels like it was more habit than anything that kept him putting his ring back on each day.

“Well, I wanted to go back to places we went on dates and things like that, have fun and reminisce on the past,” his smile is tired and Seungcheol nearly drowns his pancakes in half the bottle before he realises he’s staring.

“Do you need a nap first?” Seungcheol asks even though every part of his brain had told him not to ask, “Did you even sleep?”

“I slept,” Jihoon answers coolly, but doesn’t say anything else. Seungcheol doesn’t ask further.

“How about going to the mountains and camping overnight? Actually get away from the city and everything,” Jihoon says, pulling out a worn notebook. Seungcheol recognises it as an old lyric book, one Jihoon used back in college, but the last page is covered in a list. He assumes it’s places to visit, but there’s question marks after almost everything.

Seungcheol wonders when Jihoon became so unsure of how well he knew Seungcheol. But, he reasons, he’s unsure of how well he knows the Jihoon that sits in front of him - he knew the one five years ago, when they first got married, ten years ago, when they were finishing high school and stepping into the world as new adults, going into college with bright smiles and even brighter dreams; but the Jihoon in front of him now? Seungcheol doesn’t know him the same way.

“Sure, sounds good,” Seungcheol says, swallowing a mouthful of pancake. “Do you know where to go?”

Jihoon shakes his head. Seungcheol’s mouth quirks into a smile. “Why don’t we do something else today, then plan a camping trip for tomorrow or something,”

Jihoon nods. “Okay. Uhm, how about an amusement park then? It’s a weekday, so it’ll be quiet,”

“Why not? I can’t think of anything else,” Seungcheol says, finishing his coffee.

Jihoon laughs into his mug, and Seungcheol wonders if it's his ears or if the laugh sounded bitter. He can't quite tell though - he hasn't heard Jihoon laugh in a long time.

“That’s fine, we have thirty days, we’ll work it out as we go,” Jihoon says. The eyes watching him from behind the coffee-stained cup are sad and tired.

Seungcheol looks away, nods and takes the plates to wash up. Jihoon stands beside him and dries them before putting them away.

They’re silent as they work, and Seungcheol wonders what these thirty days are going to be like.

Lotte World is brightly lit, even during the day. Jihoon steps up to the ticket booth and asks for two tickets as he fumbles to rummage through his wallet for his card. Seungcheol sees pieces of paper (full of lyrics, of course), old receipts and an odd USB sticking out of his wallet. He smiles to himself as he pulls out his more organised wallet and slides his card across and pays for both.  
Jihoon splutters protests as Seungcheol pushes him through the gates. “You can pay for food and other stuff,” Seungcheol compromises. Jihoon huffs, and his cheeks are actually puffed out in displeasure. Seungcheol finds himself laughing.

“Keep acting like that and Jeonghan will try to call you his baby,” Seungcheol says, grin wide, as Jihoon stares at him. After a moment he glances at Jihoon, uncertain, smile fading from his face. “What?”

Jihoon finally looks away, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile. “No, just… thinking that it’s nice to hear you laugh again. I haven’t heard it in a while.”

Seungcheol doesn’t know how to answer that, so he doesn’t, and they walk in silence until they come across the first ride.

“Roller coaster?” Seungcheol asks with a grin, jerking a thumb to the empty line. Jihoon makes a face before sighing and following Seungcheol inside.

They go straight through to the ride, sitting side by side in a middle cart. The lap bar comes down to rest across them and Seungcheol sees Jihoon grip it tightly as the ride begins to move.

_Is he scared?_ Seungcheol wonders and feels guilty for not remembering if Jihoon had a fear of heights or roller coasters. He moves a little awkwardly, but pats Jihoon’s hand and gives him a small smile.

“It’ll be okay. Relax, have fun,” he says and Jihoon nods stiffly before facing forward again. They’re nearing the crest of the ride and Seungcheol thinks Jihoon is so pale he’s going to pass out. But before Seungcheol can decide whether or not to reassure him again, the ride plunges down the slope and he lets out a yell that morphs into excitable cheering. He whoops and cheers, but also notices that Jihoon is quiet and trying to shrink into his seat.

The ride slows to its end and Seungcheol grins at Jihoon, who is deathly pale. His hands are shaking a little as the lap bar is released and he clambers out on wobbly legs. Seungcheol has a hand at his elbow as he helps the other outside and onto a bench.

Jihoon sinks onto it and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head bent down as he takes deep breaths.

“You okay?” Seungcheol offers Jihoon a bottle of water from the nearby vending machine and Jihoon takes it gratefully, taking a huge gulp. He grimaces as he takes deep breaths.

“Yeah just…. feel sick,” is all Jihoon answers in the end. Seungcheol just sits down beside him and looks at the assortment of decorations that fill the indoor amusement park. He remembers going with Jihoon to the amusement park only once before - a group outing, the day before the three eldest graduated college. Seungcheol remembers holding Jihoon’s small hand in his throughout the whole day, as if it could negate all the fears he knew Jihoon was harbouring. The questions of “What's going to happen to us?” and “Will you leave me?” were unspoken, but they hung in the air. Back then, Seungcheol had wished he could offer Jihoon more than constant hand holding and murmured promises.

Now? Now Seungcheol doesn't know what he wishes, what he wants. He looks beside him and Jihoon looks better now. He's perusing the park map, probably for their next ride.

_Maybe I wish I could go back and do everything differently,_ he thinks. _But to what outcome?_

He doesn't get time to linger on that thought though, because Jihoon is talking to him.

“Want to go across to the bumper cars?” Jihoon asks, pointing it out on the map. Seungcheol easily agrees, even manages a smile.

They walk across the park, talking a little, but as usual, it's just pleasantries. Interesting things at work, the mutual friends either of them still keep in touch with. Seungcheol works in the same company as Jeonghan and Junhui works for a related customer. Jihoon has several artists who work with both him and Soonyoung, so he keeps in contact with their excitable friend. Soonyoung has been in Japan for the past two years though, only coming back to Seoul occasionally, so neither of them have really _seen_ him much.

“Soonyoung is going to be joining 10 Star Entertainment as their lead choreographer next month,” Jihoon says. “He finally got sick of all the Japanese food.”

“He'd never get sick of Japanese food,” Seungcheol replies and Jihoon chuckles quietly.

They reach the area for the bumper cars. It's only them and a small group of teenagers, so everyone gets into a car each and they take off. Seungcheol drives straight into Jihoon, bumping him into another guy. Jihoon splutters protests, but before he can charge at Seungcheol in revenge, he's bumped by one of the guy’s friends, and then another. Jihoon yells and there's laughter. Not menacing or unkind, just kids having fun, and Jihoon finds himself joining in even as he charges at one of the other teenagers. Seungcheol has a precious second of tranquility before he's bumped twice in a row by teenagers and he sets off, like he's as young as they are, with the same carefree attitude.

Seungcheol has just pushed two teenagers into a corner when he's bumped roughly by Jihoon, who's positively _cackling_ , delight spread across his face, and Seungcheol is reminded of Jihoon’s slightly violent ways. Didn't he chase Mingyu halfway around campus once, brandishing a guitar?

Seungcheol turns to get revenge, but the ride ends, his bumper car dying in his hands, and Jihoon smirks at him. Seungcheol scowls and Jihoon laughs as they walk out of the ride together.

It's a little easier after that, like some of the awkward tension has lifted. They feel a bit more like friends at the amusement park.

Seungcheol wonders if he’ll ever feel like Jihoon is his _husband_ again.

Jihoon buys lunch, as agreed, and gets Seungcheol ice cream after that, to compensate for the bumper cars. They go watch a live show, the two of them ooh-ing and ahh-ing at everything, eyes wide with wonder.

Jihoon turns look at Seungcheol during the show a few times, only to look away a moment later, biting his lip before focusing on the show again. Jihoon was never good at words, except in songs, and he was even worse at actions, unless they were subtle and allowed him to not be there when the person got the message.

Jihoon watches the way Seungcheol’s eyes shine in the afternoon sun and wonders how he can get those bright eyes to look at him like that again.

“You've picked the last three rides, it's my turn,” Jihoon says as they leave the gyro drop. His stomach still feels a little queasy, but he knows the perfect revenge.

“Sure,” Seungcheol says and follows Jihoon to the next place.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, trying to look nonchalant as he looks up at the sign.

“The haunted house? Eh, okay, if you want.”

Jihoon snickers to himself as they go inside, because Seungcheol has his hands clenched into fists by his side, and he keeps glancing around nervously.

It's not so much fear of the things inside, so much as Seungcheol gets startled easily. There was the time when Jeonghan popped the party popper right beside him, and Seungcheol fell off the arm of the couch, taking half a bowl of punch with him…..

Seungcheol squeaks as they step inside and Jihoon feels nails digging into his arm as they walk further inside.

Jihoon chuckles. “Come on, we’ve only just started - ” but Seungcheol yells and even Jihoon jumps a little at the skeleton that falls down from the ceiling in front of him.

“Ok, ha ha, very funny, can we leave?” Seungcheol mumbles, now trying to hide behind Jihoon. He's too tall though, and Jihoon rolls his eyes.

He forgot that Seungcheol was clingy when scared. He had gone in to get a laugh out of Seungcheol jumping at everything, but now he has a quivering man trying to hide behind him. He feels a little bad. But only a little.

“Come on, we’ve started, so we can’t go back. Let's walk quickly,” Jihoon says and starts power walking through the haunted house, Seungcheol scurrying to follow. Some of the things that jump out miss him but jump out at Seungcheol instead, but Jihoon walks fast enough for them to dodge quite a few, things popping up behind Seungcheol (who still jumps).

The older jumps and yells and falls over a couple of times, but they make it through.

When they get outside, Seungcheol kneels down on the ground and heaves a giant sigh of relief.

“Sorry, that was a bit more than I thought it was,” Jihoon says. He hopes Seungcheol isn’t mad, because there was that part where Seungcheol jumped half a metre in the air at that long haired woman in the corner -

Jihoon breaks his train of thought when he hears Seungcheol laughing. He's laughing?

“Oh man, I haven't been that scared in so long,” Seungcheol says, and he's really laughing now, eyes scrunched up and head thrown back.

Jihoon feels warmth spread across his heart, and the icy grip that had settled there since Seungcheol showed him the divorce papers seems to dissipate just a little.

“Food?” Jihoon asks. Seungcheol offers him a warm smile.

“Food,” he agrees, and they set off towards the food stalls.

Seungcheol turns to look at Jihoon when he stops at a traffic light, question dying on his lips.

Jihoon is asleep in the passenger seat, the rays of the setting sun bathing his face in a warm orange glow. His head is tilted to the side, lips parted as he sleeps. The cat ears headband Seungcheol had bought him is still in place though. Seungcheol’s puppy ears headband is in Jihoon’s hand, since they hit the roof of the car when he got in to drive.

Seungcheol can see the bags under his eyes from too many nights of not enough sleep. Jihoon’s sleeping habits never really showed on his face, unlike Seungcheol, who always seemed to have dark circles, even when he got a lot of sleep. But Seungcheol can see them now, and realises it's been like that for a while.

The light turns green and Seungcheol sets off. At the next light, he reaches over, adjusting his hoodie in Jihoon’s lap to cover more of his arms.

Seungcheol is reminded of warm summer days on the bus after school, the two of them squished in a row on the bus as they headed to so many different adventures. They spent every spare afternoon together, and they almost always did something different.

And sometimes, when Jihoon was tired from staying up to study, and from chasing Seungcheol by the river side, Seungcheol would find himself on the bus ride with Jihoon leaning against his shoulder, head nestled comfortably there. It was times like those that Seungcheol would always think that they fit perfectly - Seungcheol was just the right height for Jihoon to lean against, Jihoon was just small enough for the two of them to sit in the same row comfortably - not too squished, but not with too much extra space.

As they drive back to their apartment, Seungcheol wonders why that nostalgia doesn't quite warm his heart the same way anymore.


	3. three

They end up deciding where to go on the morning of their trip.

On the way back from the amusement park, Seungcheol had stopped to borrow Mingyu and Wonwoo’s tent and extra sleeping bag, since there’s only one sleeping bag in their cupboard. He had tried to wake Jihoon to go up to Mingyu and Wonwoo’s apartment with him, but the boy had just swatted at him and rolled over, going back to sleep.

Once they got home, the two of them just prepared for bed, said quick goodnights - half asleep ones on Jihoon’s part - and then slept. Neither of them got enough sleep when they were working, after all.

So the next morning, they choose a random place with a campsite and buy tickets for the first train out of Seoul that morning. They get hopelessly lost in the station and sprint to make the train.

Seungcheol grabs Jihoon’s hand to tug him along the platform, making sure they don’t lose each other.

They make it on the train, breathing hard in the entrance as the train begins to move and Jihoon collapses to sit on the floor. It’s only then that Seungcheol realises he’s still gripping Jihoon’s hand tightly, and he tugs the other up to his feet before letting go and trying to find their seats.

He doesn’t let his mind linger about how Jihoon’s hand fit so nicely in his, how it always has.

Jihoon settles down in the seat and hands Seungcheol his bag to put in the overhead compartment, exchanging it for the tickets and Seungcheol’s phone that he had been holding in his hands.

Jihoon settles down in his seat, waiting for Seungcheol to do the same, before he hands the older his ticket and phone back.

“I’ll keep the tickets. You’ll lose them,” Seungcheol says with a soft laugh. Jihoon makes a face. He used to be the more organised one of the two of them. When had that changed? He hands Seungcheol his ticket anyway.

“How long is the ride?” Seungcheol asks and Jihoon pulls out his notebook where he had noted down everything.

“About an hour,” Jihoon says, “and then there’s a bus for about twenty minutes.”

Seungcheol just nods and rummages through his bag. Jihoon sees him pull out work documents and sighs a little. Seungcheol might not have to _go_ to work, but that doesn’t mean he would stop working.

Jihoon just grabs his earphones and scrolls to find the last demo he was working on before he went on leave. He’s thinking of staring out the window for an hour and think about how their marriage has broken down to the point they can’t spend two minutes on a train together before Seungcheol pulls out work documents.

But then he glances at Seungcheol before wordlessly offering one of his earphones. Seungcheol takes a moment to notice, and he doesn’t take it instantly, looking at Jihoon, a little bewildered. For a few excruciating seconds, nothing happens, but Jihoon expects Seungcheol to say no, to say he can’t listen to music while he reads - it’s always been like that. But then Seungcheol takes the offered earphone and Jihoon almost flushes with happiness at the slightest brush of their fingers. He settles down in his seat again, cheeks warm and a smile he can’t hide on his lips. He fumbles with his phone for a moment before pressing play.

Jihoon has always been more at home with music - whether it’s making it or listening to it - it was always like that reassuring hand at his back. As soon as the opening melody washes over him, Jihoon feels like the nervousness just bleeds out. He lets out a long breath, smiles as the beats come in and lets his fingers tap out the rhythm.

He only taps out a couple of beats before stopping, scared it was disturbing Seungcheol’s reading. But when he glances up to look, he finds Seungcheol watching him with a fond smile on his face that Jihoon hasn’t seen directed at him for years. Quickly, Seungcheol looks away, like he was caught doing something wrong.

He should find it worrying, that Seungcheol looked away immediately, but Jihoon just finds himself smiling.

Seungcheol finishes his work readings halfway through the train ride, around the time the food cart comes past. Jihoon is scribbling away in another notebook, not noticing. It’s only when his earphone is tugged out of his ear does he realise that Seungcheol is accepting drinks and some chip packets from the pretty girl wheeling the cart.

Jihoon dumbly takes the two drinks that Seungcheol hands him while Seungcheol pulls out his wallet to pay. But he snaps out of his daze when Seungcheol smiles to thank the girl and she flushes and stammers out her reply.

When Seungcheol turns to get his drink from Jihoon, he’s met with a piercing gaze.

“What?” he asks, confused.

Jihoon just wordlessly gives him his drink and settles back in his seat, stubbornly facing forward, a frown carved into his face.

Seungcheol sighs, picks up the earphone that had fallen out and sticks it back into his ear. “If you’re mad at me, then you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Jihoon huffs out, but before he can add that he’s mad at the girl for flirting with Seungcheol, who is _married_ , he freezes. Soon, Seungcheol won’t be married. Seungcheol will be single, and free to flirt with whoever he wants. Soon, Seungcheol can start another relationship with someone else. Someone who is not Jihoon.

“Then?” Seungcheol prompts but Jihoon isn’t listening, just puts his drink down and stumbles over Seungcheol’s legs to get out. Seungcheol calls after him but Jihoon is running down the aisle, crashing into the bathroom door and collapsing on the ground as he empties the meagre contents of his stomach into the toilet.

“Jihoon?! Oh, Jihoon…” and then there’s a warm hand rubbing at his back and Jihoon has never felt more mortified.

“I’m… fine, go,” Jihoon waves him away. He wants to go drown himself in the sink or something.

A soft chuckle. “You looked after me through so many of these during college, I think it’s pretty fair for me to stay with you right now,” Seungcheol’s soft voice says.

Jihoon remembers those nights too, but he’s not feeling sick because he drank too much. Jihoon feels sick from the realisation that he feels a jealousy that no longer has any right to exist.

“I know, but please, I want to be alone for a moment,” Jihoon mumbles.

The hand at his back stops and Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay, but I’ll come back to check on you if you don’t come out after a while,” Seungcheol says. Jihoon nods a little.

After Seungcheol leaves, Jihoon gets to his feet to close the door and lock it. It takes him a long moment to turn to the sink to rinse his mouth, and then he sits back down on the floor, breathing haggardly.

He stares at the roof of the tiny cubicle, feels the rumble of the train on the tracks through the floor, and lets the tears fall.

“Uhmmmm,”

Jihoon sighs and holds his head in his hands.

They had gotten the bus with no issues, arrived at the campsite around noon, eaten their packed food for lunch and then they were faced with their biggest problem - neither of them knew how to set up the tent. Twenty minutes of hopeful attempts at sticking random pieces together amounted to nothing.

“Well, we have about five hours until sunset, so it’ll be fine, right?” Seungcheol says, trying to sound hopeful as he continues to stare at the poles in his hands.

“Four and a half,” Jihoon corrects, pursing his lips. “Okay, let’s try this again.”

Half an hour later, Seungcheol has to stop Jihoon grabbing the tent poles and throwing them across the campsite. He’s laughing and Jihoon hates how he can’t even be mad at him. He’s mad at the tent though, and Mingyu and Wonwoo for not keeping the instruction manual with it.

“They’ve probably set it up enough times to not need it anymore,” Seungcheol points out and Jihoon waves a tent pole at him.

It ends up taking them a good hour and a half after that, and even then it seems a little flimsy, but Jihoon is too tired to care. He just throws his bag inside, rolls out his sleeping bag and curls up on top of it.

Seungcheol climbs in with bright laughter. “You didn’t come all the way out here to nap, did you?” he asks and Jihoon whines, rolling over to complain. Except rolling over makes him bump into

Seungcheol, sitting on his sleeping bag, and Jihoon feels panic swell inside him when he realises how close they are.

Tents aren’t exactly big. Two people sharing a tent are going to be in close proximity. Jihoon hadn’t thought of that before.

“You okay?” Seungcheol’s voice brings him back to the present. There’s a hand brushing his hair aside to feel his forehead. “Do you feel sick again?”

“I’m fine,” Jihoon says too quickly, scrambling to sit up properly. But he bumps the edge of one of the tent poles in the process and the whole thing comes collapsing down on the both of them.  
Jihoon sighs.

“Sorry,” Jihoon mumbles again as they set up the tent again. At least they know what they have to do now, and Seungcheol even figured out what had made it flimsy the last time.

Seungcheol throws him a grin from the other side of the tent, through the two open flaps on either side.

“It’s okay. This is fun, don’t you think? Actually leaving the city, spending time outside, with fresh air and everything. We can take walks and stuff too,” he says, looking around them.  
Jihoon smiles. “I think there’s a river not far from the campsite. We can go tomorrow morning,” he says.

Seungcheol grins from the other side of the tent. “Sounds good,”

Jihoon starts setting up the portable stove to prepare dinner while Seungcheol finishes up the tent.

He’s pulling out all their food to cook when he finally gathers the courage to ask what’s been on his mind, ever since they started the thirty days.

“I was thinking of going back to our college and stuff. Maybe even high school. Remember the memories we made there. What do you think?”

There’s no answer, and Jihoon thinks maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But then he frowns when he hears nothing at all. Jihoon turns around, but Seungcheol isn’t behind him. He’s not inside the tent either and Jihoon frowns, puzzled. “Seungcheol?” he calls.

Then he hears Seungcheol’s voice yelling from somewhere else in the camping ground. Fear seizes him like a jolt of electricity, and Jihoon drops everything and bolts, dodging tents to the clearing.

He finds Seungcheol yelling and laughing as a dog, a Golden Retriever with gorgeous soft-looking fur, runs around him, jumping for the tug toy that Seungcheol is dangling in front of him.

Jihoon nearly sinks to the ground in exhausted relief. Seungcheol is fine. In fact, he’s better than fine. Jihoon hasn’t seen him so happy and relaxed in so long.

Seungcheol plays with the dog for a while longer, while Jihoon stands on the side, arms folded across his chest as he watches, a small smile on his lips. If they didn’t have such long working hours and their apartment complex allowed pets, Jihoon knows Seungcheol would have gotten a dog a long time ago.

Jihoon is just committing the image of Seungcheol’s happy face to his memory, to keep for when Jihoon will no longer see it again, when Seungcheol notices him standing there.

“Hey, Mingyu, let’s play with Jihoon, yeah?” Seungcheol says as he and the dog trot over to Jihoon.

“The dog’s name is Mingyu?” Jihoon asks, thinking of their tall friend.

Seungcheol laughs. Jihoon tries to memorise the sound. “No, but I’m calling him Mingyu. Kind of looks like him, doesn’t he?”

Jihoon lets out a short bark of laughter before crouching down to pat the dog, fur soft beneath his hands. The dog looks at him happily, tongue sticking out and tail wagging back and forth. The dog shuffles forward to lick Jihoon’s face and Jihoon flounders as he loses his balance, dog climbing over him to lick his face.

Seungcheol is laughing at him and Jihoon squawks from his position on the ground. Seungcheol just keeps laughing and Jihoon is about to scream at him, face red with embarrassment at being toppled by a _dog_ , when someone calls out, and suddenly the mass of fur is gone, bounding off to its owner.

Seungcheol helps Jihoon to his feet and Jihoon grumbles as he brushes dirt off his butt. He looks up when he feels Seungcheol’s hands ruffling his hair, coming face to face with Seungcheol’s gentle smile.

Jihoon feels the blush creep to his cheeks. Why is he so flustered? He and Seungcheol are _married_ , have been for six and a half years, and yet he’s acting like it’s an unrequited crush.

Then again, Jihoon reasons, they haven’t really acted like they’re married for the past few years. It’s been a while since he’s had Seungcheol smile at him like that, a while since they’ve spent more than a couple of hours in front of the TV together.

“L-Let’s go make dinner, before it gets dark,” Jihoon says, and he sets off back towards their tent. He hears Seungcheol chuckle as he follows.

“Hey, Seungcheol…”

“Mm?”

“Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For doing this. The thirty days thing. I mean, I know I said I wouldn't sign on this condition but…. yeah, just… thanks.”

A shuffle and Jihoon can tell Seungcheol has rolled over to face him. It's just the shape of the lump next to him, the warmth of Seungcheol’s breath just ghosting the tip of his nose.

“No, you were right. It would have been wrong to have ended it like that. This way we can go our own ways at the end of it with peace of mind and newer memories,” Seungcheol says softly. Jihoon is glad for the dark, because he’s pretty sure he'd be resembling a tomato right about now. His face feels hot and it’s not just the words. It’s the memories of Seungcheol holding him through the night, laughing with his nose in Jihoon’s hair, hands rubbing comforting circles against his hip.

But along with the flush from those memories, comes the sadness of nostalgia. Seungcheol doesn’t hold him like that anymore.

“Goodnight,” Jihoon mutters, turning over to face the side of the tent. It’s dark, so Seungcheol probably can't see his expression, but on the off chance he can, Jihoon doesn’t want to have to explain all the emotions he’s feeling.

When they had moved into the first shabby apartment that they called their own, Seungcheol held Jihoon close in the too-small bed, nose and lips pressed against the back of Jihoon’s neck as he breathed words of love against his skin.

Now, their bed back home is big enough that when Jihoon crawls into bed in the dead of the night, when Seungcheol is asleep and needs to wake up at sunrise, the bed barely dips at Seungcheol’s side. They lie on their respective sides, backs facing each other, with a small chasm between them - enough to fit another person comfortably.

Right now, in the tent, is the closest they’ve been in years.

Jihoon can’t remember when Seungcheol stopped holding him, stopped reaching for him to pull him to his chest, but he doesn’t know how to change it. He doesn’t know how to say that he misses the warmth of Seungcheol beside him, misses the security he feels when Seungcheol holds him; he doesn’t know how to ask, “Why don’t you hold me anymore?”


	4. four

They spend the morning by the river, Seungcheol even borrowing someone’s fishing rod and catching a medium sized fish. When he pulls it out of the river though, the fish flails at the end of the rod, before jumping off the hook and promptly landing on Jihoon’s head.

Seungcheol is still laughing about it, an hour later, while Jihoon grumbles and cooks the fish. They share it with some dishes that Jihoon took from home and even though they’re quiet as they eat, the silence isn’t as heavy as it used to be.

They take a walk through the nearby forests and Jihoon trips over a tree root when Seungcheol screams at a bug that flies near his face. They walk amongst the trees and stare at birds that flutter in the treetops above them.

Seungcheol fumbles with the camera, because they haven’t used it in so long, but they take pictures of the scenery and a few of each other. At one point, Seungcheol puts an arm around Jihoon to take a photo together. Seungcheol is giving the camera a cheeky grin and Jihoon only has time to quirk his lips upwards in a small smile before the shutter goes off. They share a smile and then keep walking, but Jihoon’s heart is beating rapidly in way that isn’t from physical exercise.

They get pulled into camp games with some of the other campers as the sun goes down. Jihoon finds himself on the opposite team to Seungcheol as they play, Jihoon easily helping a young boy get back at his brother, who is also on the opposite team. The two of them laugh as they run back to their base, and Jihoon misses the fond smile on Seungcheol’s face.

The two of them share slightly watery stew around the campfire, as the young boy from the sunset games sits by Jihoon’s knee and chats away happily, eyes shining brightly in the light of the fire. Jihoon listens attentively, and Seungcheol watches them both with a smile that doesn’t leave his face.

Later that night, Seungcheol is already asleep by the time Jihoon climbs into the tent after brushing his teeth. He looks at Seungcheol’s sleeping face for a moment, and thinks Seungcheol seems more relaxed than Jihoon has seen in a long while. He doesn't understand the business stuff that Seungcheol does, but he knows it can be stressful. Seungcheol used to talk to him about it sometimes, back when they still shared nights together, when they still talked easily and conversation wasn't forced.

After a while, Jihoon shakes himself from his thoughts and reaches to take out the camera. He looks at the picture of them from the walk for a long moment. He smiles at their faces - Seungcheol’s happy, playful grin, Jihoon’s surprised expression, covered by his small smile. He thinks it’d be a nice background for his phone or computer.

His phone background shows their two hands, matching wedding bands shining in the warm summer sun. He hasn’t changed it in years.

Jihoon wonders what he’ll have as his phone background when they get divorced.

The next morning sees Seungcheol and Jihoon struggling to take the tent down, much like how they struggled to set it up. They get it eventually, Seungcheol laughing when Jihoon kicks the packed up tent in mini vengeance.

They just make the bus, and Jihoon shares his music with Seungcheol again on the train. Except this time, they both fall asleep, Seungcheol’s head on Jihoon’s shoulder, Jihoon resting his head on top of him.

Seungcheol is the one who wakes up in time, packing their stuff hurriedly and dragging a half-asleep Jihoon off the train, before they end up somewhere else.

They meet Mingyu for lunch, to return the extra sleeping bag and tent. Their tall friend barely even gives them a chance to speak, even when he’s eating, as they share barbeque in a small restaurant near Mingyu and Wonwoo’s apartment. They only mention a little bit about their trip, but Mingyu doesn’t even ask _why_ they went on a trip in the middle of the week, so the fact it’s before they get divorced doesn’t get mentioned.

When they get home, Seungcheol’s phone pings. _Thanks for feeding Mingyu,_ is Wonwoo’s text, _I have food for the rest of the week now._ Seungcheol laughs and shows Jihoon, the younger snickering quietly as he puts their bags away.

“We need to do laundry,” Seungcheol murmurs as he glances at the laundry basket that has piled up over the weeks. Jihoon just sighs as he comes to stand beside him.

“Probably need to change the bedsheets too,” he says.

So Seungcheol sorts the laundry and sets the machine going while Jihoon changes the bedsheets.

Seungcheol pokes his head in the room at one point, after hearing a yell. He finds Jihoon on the floor, having accidentally gotten himself twisted in the sheets and falling off the bed.

“I’ve almost finished the laundry. Want me to start making dinner?” Seungcheol asks, trying to stifle laughter.

Jihoon grumbles from within the sheets. “Yes please,” he says, getting up and trying to fight his way out of the bed sheets. Did he get even more tangled?

Seungcheol’s laughter rumbles a lot nearer than the doorway and Jihoon freezes as hands start tugging at the sheets. “How did you even get yourself this tangled?”

And then Seungcheol’s face appears as the sheets part away from Jihoon’s face. He’s wearing that warm smile and Jihoon feels his heart flutter.

“There you go,” he says, still smiling. For a moment, neither of them say anything, then Seungcheol realises and hurriedly licks his lips. “Well, uh, I’ll go see what we have in the fridge,” and then he’s gone, leaving Jihoon wrapped in sheets with flushed cheeks.

Five minutes later, Seungcheol walks into the bedroom when Jihoon is putting the new bedsheet on. “Uhm, Jihoon?”

“Yeah?”

“We don’t have any food.”

“What? Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I took it all when I packed for our trip, sorry,” Jihoon says, sitting in the middle of the bed.

Seungcheol scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I think we need to go to the supermarket,” he says.

Jihoon sighs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just finish this, and then we can go,” he says, picking up the quilt and the new quilt cover.

“I’ll help,” Seungcheol says.

Jihoon doesn’t know if they’ve ever changed their bedsheets together; it’s always just been whoever is home and has time, just like all their their other household chores, like laundry and groceries and cleaning.

It’s quick then, Seungcheol holding the quilt cover while Jihoon fits the quilt inside, shaking it until it matches. They each do their own pillows and then it’s all done. Jihoon feels the slightest bit proud at the clean, neat bed at the end.

“Come on, we should go before it gets busy,” Seungcheol says, grabbing the car keys.

Seungcheol pushes the trolley while Jihoon grabs the food they’ll need for the next week or so. At one point, he tries to sneak some snacks, but Jihoon catches him and makes him put it back. Seungcheol drags his feet and sulks like a child.

“It’ll be late by the time we cook dinner… do you want to just get takeout tonight?” Seungcheol asks as they load their bags into the car.

“Yeah, sure,” Jihoon says, hauling a particularly heavy bag into the car.

They pick up some noodles from a nearby restaurant, before getting back in the car and heading back to their apartment.

They’ve just stepped back into the apartment when Jihoon’s phone starts ringing. One look at the screen and he groans. He shoots Seungcheol an apologetic look before stepping back into the corridor to take the call.

Seungcheol watches the door for a moment before turning away to get plates out for their takeaway dinner. He starts thinking about what meals they can cook, because they eat quite a lot of takeout. It’s kind of unhealthy.

“Everything okay?” Seungcheol asks when Jihoon finally steps back inside. Jihoon looks stressed, hair messed up from the hand that is running through it, back and forth, back and forth.

“Yeah, just something at work,” Jihoon says. Before Seungcheol can ask further, Jihoon forces a smile they both know is fake, and says, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Let’s eat.”

They eat on the couch, Seungcheol absently flipping through channels until Jihoon sees a movie he wants to watch, hand flapping towards the screen to tell Seungcheol to stop changing channels. They’re sitting next to each other, not necessarily close, but closer than the last few times they watched a movie together.

They don’t speak much, even as they clear the dishes and get ready for bed. Seungcheol falls asleep to the sound of Jihoon tossing and turning, as he wonders what kind of comfort he’s allowed to offer anymore.


	5. five

It’s five in the morning when Seungcheol rouses. He clambers out of bed dazedly, yawning as he shuffles into the kitchen and gets himself a glass of water. He’s halfway through the glass when he sees that the light is on in Jihoon’s little home studio.

Seungcheol frowns, confused. Jihoon had gone to bed with him, so he wouldn’t be in there…. Would he?

A peek in the bedroom confirms his suspicions. The bed is empty, and Seungcheol knocks on the door even though he knows Jihoon won’t hear him with his headphones on.

He peers into the room quietly. Jihoon doesn’t have his headphones on, but he doesn’t seem to have heard Seungcheol either. He doesn’t move from his position with his forehead still in his hands, music program with layers and layers of beats and melodies on the screen in front of him.

“Jihoon?” Seungcheol whispers. No reaction. Seungcheol hesitantly touches Jihoon’s shoulder and the boy jerks upright, like someone tried to attack him.

“Seungcheol,” he breathes out, letting out a sigh of relief. “You scared me,” he says, slumping against the table again.

“Work?”

Jihoon runs a hand through his hair and opens his mouth, like he wants to deny, but Seungcheol knows the answer anyway.

“Yeah,” he eventually answers with a sigh. “They said it was fine last week and now suddenly I need to change the whole thing,” he says.

_How long have you been up?_ Seungcheol wants to ask. _Did you even sleep?_

“How’s it going?” he asks, even though it can't be good if Jihoon is awake at five in the morning and holding his head in his hands.

Jihoon's expression is grim. “I can't seem to get the right transition into the bridge, but I've been working on it for ages, and I can't seem to fix it.”

Seungcheol tugs at his headphones. “Stand up, actually walk out of this room. I'll make coffee, then try working on it again.”

Jihoon looks at him, exasperated. Seungcheol starts moving like he will physically drag Jihoon out of his chair (which he has done before), so Jihoon sighs, swats his hands away and gets up.

“You should go back to sleep though,” Jihoon says as he rubs his eyes, heading for the bathroom.

Seungcheol just smiles. “Not a chance.”

He makes coffee from the instant packets Jihoon always uses, adds extra sugar to his own, and heads back to the little home studio.

Seungcheol mucks around on Jihoon’s laptop while the younger works. He can see the complicated music program on the dual screens, can see all the layers of beats and melodies. It’s gotten even more complicated since Seungcheol last saw Jihoon working. It’s been years, and Seungcheol is sure the technology in the top end of the music industry would improve at an incredible rate, but he’s still surprised.

Jihoon is focused as he works, large headphones resting on his head, making him look small as he adds the tiniest bits to the track. Every little bit counts, and for a producer like Jihoon, every little effect and choice he makes on the track has meaning. There’s a reason Jihoon has a signature sound and is recognised and respected in the music industry.

A couple of times, Jihoon asks for Seungcheol’s opinion, about whether the beat comes in too early, or if the harmony is loud enough under the melody, but for the most part, Jihoon works in his own little bubble of isolation. Seungcheol plays around on his laptop, listening to the old tracks they used to make when they were younger, in high school, college and the early years of working when Jihoon still came back at night. Seungcheol listens to their old music, and watches Jihoon.

He still bites his lip when he’s trying to decide between something, and he taps out the beat every time he listens to the track again. He still forgets to eat, and drink (Seungcheol has to nudge him to drink the coffee he made). So little has changed, it makes Seungcheol smile through the hours.

Jihoon is finally satisfied with the track sometime in the late morning, and Seungcheol hauls him to his feet to drag him to the bedroom and tuck him back into bed.

“Aren’t you sleeping too?” Jihoon asks through a yawn. He looks like he’s already drifting off, and Seungcheol smiles.

“I’ll do a few things around the apartment first, then I’ll come nap,” he says and Jihoon blearily opens his eyes and sits up a little.

“Need me to... do something?” he asks, blinking slowly.

Seungcheol smiles and tucks him back in. “No, just go to sleep. We can have dinner later,”

“Okay… I’m sorry we couldn’t do something today,” Jihoon mumbles. A moment later, soft snores can be heard, the young man already dreaming.

Seungcheol watches Jihoon for a moment before getting up and going to the kitchen. He stares at all the ingredients in the fridge before picking out a few things.

Twenty minutes later, the stew is beginning to bubble in the pot and Seungcheol is trying to remember how to use the oven. He gives up eventually and ends up using the fry pan to cook the meat. It still looks tasty. He cooks rice and prepares a few dishes, putting them into takeaway containers and pushing them into the fridge. They should keep more prepared meals in the fridge, he thinks as he hums, satisfied at the newly stocked fridge with ready to eat food.

It’s only early afternoon when he finishes. Seungcheol flops down on the couch with a sigh of relief. He starts flipping through the TV channels, but falls asleep soon after, mind filled with memories of the two of them in the college studios, making music and laughing together.

Seungcheol wakes to a hand at his shoulder, gently shaking him awake.

“Seungcheol, why did you sleep out here?” Jihoon’s voice asks and the older blearily opens his eyes to find Jihoon looking at him worriedly.

“Sorry, must have fallen asleep watching TV,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes. Outside, the sun has gone down, streetlights filtering through the blinds.

He gets up to get the food he made from the fridge, so he misses Jihoon’s sigh of relief and murmured, “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What do you want to eat?” Seungcheol asks, still groggy.

“Wait, you made all this food?” Jihoon cries as he runs to the fridge, staring at it in amazement.

“Yeah, once I started I… kind of got carried away,” Seungcheol says sheepishly. Now that he looks at it, it really is a lot of food, especially for only two people.

Jihoon cheers. “No more take away!”

“For a while,” Seungcheol corrects with a laugh, “unless we do more cooking,”

“We should,” Jihoon says, “but for now, I need food.”

Seungcheol just laughs again and pulls out a few tubs for them to eat. They share it on their small kitchen table.

“What did you do that whole time?” Jihoon asks. When Seungcheol blinks back at him in total confusion, Jihoon clarifies, “When I was working in the studio.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol says, “Listening to our old music. You know, the ones we made back in high school, college, years ago.”

Jihoon makes a face. “Weren’t they awful?” he asks.

Seungcheol laughs and shakes his head. “No, they were pretty good. A little rough, now that I look back on it, and know what you can do now, but they were still good.”

Jihoon shakes his head, eating another spoon of rice. “I don’t know if I want to hear it again,” he says.

Seungcheol grins. “We should try it again.”

Jihoon chokes on his soup. “What?” he blubbers as Seungcheol hands him a tissue.

“Make music again, like we used to, back in high school and college,” Seungcheol answers.

Jihoon coughs again, but finishes his food in silence. Seungcheol doesn’t know what to make of it. They clean up without speaking.

After dinner, Jihoon walks down the corridor, turning around after he’s walked past their bedroom.

“Aren’t you coming?” he asks Seungcheol, who is staring at him dumbly.

“Where?” Seungcheol asks, not moving from his spot in the living room.

“I thought you wanted to make music again,” Jihoon says simply. Seungcheol breaks into a bright smile and follows Jihoon into his little home studio.

It hasn’t even been twelve hours since they were both last in there, but Jihoon stills finds it jarring. Aside from last night, and the occasional head in the door to ask if he needs food, Seungcheol hasn’t been inside Jihoon’s studio in this apartment since they moved in two years ago. The studio in the previous apartment was likewise rarely visited. Seungcheol just didn’t have the time, nor did he keep the same hours as Jihoon, who has been pretty much nocturnal the last few years.

Seungcheol easily takes the seat he had occupied this morning, starting up Jihoon’s laptop.

“Look, do you remember this? _Fronting_ ,” Seungcheol smiles warmly, “We recorded that with Mingyu, Wonwoo, Hansol and Soonyoung,”

“Before Hansol went back to the U.S. for a year,” Jihoon murmurs, remembering that year of college.

“Seungkwan barely survived that year,” Seungcheol laughs.

Jihoon smiles a little. “It was hard for them. They’d only just started dating,” he says.” But it made them both stronger.”

Seungcheol hums his agreement. “Oh, there’s this too. Remember?” and this time there’s a video clip.

Jihoon nearly grabs his laptop to hide the video, heat from embarrassment crawling up his neck. His younger, nineteen year old self is singing and dancing along with Seungcheol and Chan to a song he composed called _O.M.G._

Seungcheol laughs at his squawk and the hands that come up to cover his face.

“We thought we were so cool,” Seungcheol laughs.

“You still think you're so cool,” Jihoon mutters and Seungcheol sticks his tongue out at him.

“What’s Chan up to nowadays? Is he still teaching dance classes?” Seungcheol asks as the video finishes.

“Last I heard from Soonyoung, he was a backup dancer on some tours around Asia,” Jihoon answers, messing around with some things on his desktop.

“Oh yeah,” Seungcheol says as he clicks on another audio track, “I was going to ask you - did you ever finish this one?”

Jihoon looks at the file. Titled _Drift Away_ , the audio file is only a minute long - not a full song. It starts playing softly from the laptop.

“Oh, I forgot about that one,” Jihoon murmurs, bobbing his head a little as the beat of the track starts.

Seungcheol watches him with a small smile, the nostalgia seeping into his heart. “A rap part could go here,” Jihoon says, breaking Seungcheol away from the memories of all the college nights that they spent over laptops and in studios. He’s still tapping out the beat with his fingertips against the table.

“I haven’t rapped in years,” Seungcheol chuckles.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh no, how terrible, it’s not like you have a fully qualified producer right here or anything,” he drawls sarcastically and Seungcheol can’t help the laugh that bubbles from his chest.

“Besides,” Jihoon says, quieter, as Seungcheol turns to look at him, “you’re a natural at it. It wouldn’t take you long to pick it up again,”

It takes Seungcheol a moment to process his words, but when it does, the smile spreads across his face before he even realises.

Jihoon isn’t meeting his eyes, setting up his keyboard. “Can you play the audio again? Maybe I can finish it today,” and Jihoon starts accompanying the melody on the keyboard, singing along softly.  
The audio ends, but Jihoon keeps playing the melody and soon, Seungcheol finds himself humming out a rhythm, though there are no words yet. Jihoon listens and smiles along with him, before the chorus comes back and Jihoon sings it quietly.

But with no sound other than the keyboard, Seungcheol can hear Jihoon’s voice clearly. He listens to the sound of Jihoon’s gentle singing voice - a sound he didn’t realise he hasn’t heard in a while, didn’t realise he missed.

_All the trivial things that keep washing away,_

_Even though you’re already so far away inside, I would think of_

_Times when you would lean on me when you were having a hard day_

Seungcheol wonders what Jihoon had been thinking about when he wrote this song, all those years ago. He wonders what could have prompted a young Jihoon to write lyrics that related to the two of them when they were on the brink of divorce.


	6. six

The next day is cloudy. Jihoon thinks it reflects his mood.

Jihoon watches Seungcheol from behind an oversized coffee mug, as the older reads the news on his phone while he eats cereal.

“Where to?” Seungcheol asks halfway through his bowl. Jihoon just smiles and wordlessly holds up the car keys.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask, just finishes his breakfast and gets into the passenger seat beside Jihoon.

The playground is empty when Jihoon pulls up to it. Seungcheol looks out the car window, confusion all over his face.

“You remember this place?” Jihoon asks as they get out, the sound of the doors slamming echoing in the quiet morning air.

“It's familiar, but I can't seem to remember….” Seungcheol is looking around, probably for something that will trigger his memories.

Jihoon laughs a little, but his heart is sinking in his chest. Seungcheol doesn't remember this place, even though they…...

“Our old school is a block that way,” Jihoon points in one direction and Seungcheol’s mouth opens slightly in realisation, but not the realisation Jihoon is waiting for.

“We had our first date here,” Jihoon says.

Seungcheol remembers then. The nervous hand holding, Jihoon sitting on the swing and smiling brightly at Seungcheol’s lame joke. That was the first time they kissed - Seungcheol bending over to press his lips against Jihoon’s as he sat on that red swing set.

Seungcheol goes pink, flustered, and guilty, and a little embarrassed. He had been the one who took Jihoon here, he had been the one who held Jihoon’s hand first, right by the slide. He kissed him on the swings just on the other side of the playground; and yet he didn't recognise this place.

It was the place where Jihoon showed Seungcheol his first composition, when they were only just becoming close friends. The place where they practiced soccer when Seungcheol wanted to try out for the team and couldn’t kick a soccer ball to save his life. The place where Seungcheol comforted Jihoon when they got back test results and Jihoon hadn’t got the results he wanted. It was where they met when they had different after school clubs and meetings - they only had a few hundred metres that they shared on their walks home, but they would always wait for each other to walk together. It was almost like they couldn’t walk those few hundred metres without the other by their side.

That playground is where Jihoon and Seungcheol opened their high school results together, colliding in a bone-crushing hug when they realised they were both going to do what they had applied for.  
It's a place of a thousand memories.

Jihoon goes over to sit on the swings and Seungcheol sits down on the other swing beside him. They slowly swing back and forth on their toes, silence spinning out between them.

Jihoon is the one who breaks it.

“Remember when Soonyoung was trying to train for a marathon in our second year? But then he sprained his ankle trying to do those mountain stairs,” Jihoon says. He doesn’t look at Seungcheol. He can’t bear to think that maybe these memories don't mean anything to him, like they still do to Jihoon.

“Junhui and Minghao had to help him down all the stairs after,” Seungcheol murmurs. Jihoon chances a glance, and Seungcheol is smiling.

“Junhui complained for days after,” Jihoon says, chuckling.

“What about the time Jeonghan got a love letter?” Seungcheol says. “He was so flustered, but also really happy.”

“It gave Jisoo-hyung the courage to finally ask Jeonghan-hyung out though,” Jihoon recalls and Seungcheol laughs.

“Yeah, those two had been dancing around each other for ages,” Seungcheol murmurs. “I'm glad they got together. They match each other so well.”

Jihoon smiles ruefully. “That’s what they used to say about us,”

Seungcheol doesn't answer. Silence spins out between them again.

His stomach breaks the tension though - rumbling loudly. Jihoon feels the laughter bubble out of him unknowingly.

“It's only been a couple of hours since breakfast,” he says, grinning. Seungcheol is frowning at his stomach, like he's mentally scolding it for growling.

“Morning tea?” Seungcheol asks, the lilt in his voice hopeful. Jihoon laughs again.

“Let's go find food, then move on. There's a couple of other places I want to visit today,” Jihoon says, getting to his feet. Seungcheol grabs his wrist before he can move away though.

Jihoon stares at Seungcheol’s warm hand wrapped around his wrist with expertly concealed surprise. “I'm sorry for not recognising this place,” Seungcheol says. Jihoon hasn't raised his eyes from Seungcheol’s hand at his wrist. When was the last time Seungcheol touched him? Willingly? “I remember now,” Seungcheol is still speaking. Jihoon just nods dumbly and hopes Seungcheol can't feel his rapidly increasing heart rate.

“You have lots to remember, it's okay,” he mumbles. His brain isn't working enough to actually say what he feels: that he's disappointed, that it hurts him to think that maybe Seungcheol doesn't value those memories anymore, the way Jihoon still does.

“It's not okay,” Seungcheol says with a shake of his head, “but I can't change the fact I didn't remember, so I'm apologising.”

Jihoon swallows what feels like a peach stone. “Then, I accept your apology,” Jihoon says, and he realises, when he takes a deep breath, that he really does. His chest feels a little lighter from Seungcheol’s words.

The small smile Seungcheol gives him lets him know that Seungcheol feels a little lighter too.

Jihoon stares at the closed gates with his mouth hanging open.

Seungcheol scratches the back of his neck. “Well, semester is over and it’s the weekend, so they probably close down most of the campus,” he says.

“But - but,” Jihoon splutters, “what about summer semester? Surely they’re open for that?”

“Well, still the weekend. They probably don’t expect people to be coming in during summer on the weekends,” Seungcheol reasons.

“It’s too cold to be summer,” Jihoon grumbles, for it’s not yet summer - the last cold winds of spring still lingering. He sighs.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Seungcheol says softly, ruffling his hair, “don’t worry.”

Jihoon is so wrapped up in his thoughts he doesn’t even think about how Seungcheol hasn’t ruffled his hair affectionately in years.

“I wanted to do it together with school though,” Jihoon sighs, “like… we go from school, to college, then…” he sighs and shakes his head again.

“Let’s do something that we used to do back then, instead?” Seungcheol offers.

Jihoon looks at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “When we skipped class we went to games arcades or watched movies,” he says.

“The games arcade is at the mall, and that’d be too busy today,” Jihoon murmurs, “But we could see if that old cinema down the road is still open….”

“If the stairs are still creaking and the floors are still sticky?” Seungcheol asks, grinning.

Jihoon laughs, remembering the memories of cold snow days spent hurrying into the old cinema with it’s sticky floors and overly buttery popcorn. Only the college kids ever visited it - tucked away in a small lane with cheap movie tickets during the day (when they were meant to be in class).

They spend the short walk reminiscing their adventures at the cinema - with Soonyoung, with Jeonghan and Jisoo, with Junhui and Mingyu, the whole group.

When they arrive at the place, Jihoon is still laughing at Seungcheol’s retelling of the time they successfully tricked Minghao into watching a horror movie, only for the rest of them to be more scared than the new transfer student from China. Seungcheol had gotten so startled by one of the ghosts jumping out that he had thrown the popcorn in the air and made it all rain down on the rest of them.

The door is a little stuck - as it always was - and Seungcheol shoves it open with a shoulder. The over-heating hits them both in a wave of hot air and Seungcheol quickly sheds his jacket. Jihoon ambles over to the counter that is all too familiar - it looks a little more worn though, more scratches and scuffs on the wood. The elderly man who used to always greet them isn’t there though - instead, a young girl chewing gum and reading a textbook is at the counter.

The latest action movie is about to start in ten minutes, so they both agree on that - though Jihoon doesn’t recognise any of the actors. Jihoon pays for the tickets and Seungcheol buys them popcorn and drinks.

As Seungcheol takes the bucket and his drink and heads down the corridor to the cinema, Jihoon steals a couple of pieces of popcorn. It’s still overly buttery, but it’s nostalgic. He sees Seungcheol watching from the corner of his eye, and he grins, a piece of popcorn between his teeth.

“Hasn’t changed,” he says and Seungcheol laughs before Jihoon stuffs a piece into his mouth. Seungcheol chews thoughtfully before he nods his agreement. Jihoon finds himself laughing, though he’s not quite sure why.

They settle down in their seats in the back row. When they came in college, they always sat in the back row. The cinema is practically empty - only a couple of teenagers to one side and a family in the middle.

The movie starts and the two of them watch wordlessly. A couple of times, hands collide over the popcorn by Jihoon’s side. Jihoon flushes and retracts his hand quickly, while Seungcheol just offers a flash of a grin or a small smile, before taking his popcorn and going back to watching. After a while, Jihoon stops flinching at every touch, just takes it all in stride and tries to enjoy the movie.

When the protagonist jumps off a building to save the girl of his dreams, Seungcheol looks at Jihoon. He’s not sure why he does, but he sees the tiniest hint of nostalgia and sadness in Jihoon’s eyes. He doesn’t know how he recognises those emotions - he thinks that maybe it’s all the years he’s spent together with Jihoon.

_What’s he thinking?_ Seungcheol wonders. _Does he miss the way we used to be?_

On the screen, the protagonist is holding the girl of his dreams in his arms, crying because he thinks she’s dead. He’s confessing his love through ugly tears and Seungcheol doesn’t think it’s cool at all, but it feels genuine.

Seungcheol looks at Jihoon again. To most people, Jihoon looks blank-faced most of the time (Jeonghan had thought Jihoon hated him for a good three months), but Seungcheol can see the movie reflected in his eyes and the slightest shine in his gaze. _Is it sadness?_ he wonders.

The girl wakes up and tells the protagonist that he’s uncool, and Jihoon laughs quietly. Seungcheol thinks it sounds hollow.

The movie ends with explosions and the protagonist holding the girl - in typical action movie fashion. Seungcheol barely registers it though, mind still cluttered with thoughts until Jihoon nudges him.

“Home? We have time before we’ll be hungry again, so we can go grocery shopping and make dinner,” Jihoon is saying. Seungcheol snaps out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, smiling. Jihoon watches him for another moment before nodding and the two of them leave the cinema without any words.

They make soup and add noodles and Jihoon shows Seungcheol the newest group he’s working with on his laptop. Seven boys dance perfectly in sync and hit all the notes, despite constantly moving around the stage. Jihoon talks about them with such a bright light in his eyes, Seungcheol wonders when it ever went away, wonders why he let it disappear.

That night, they slip into bed with a softly murmured goodnight, the covers settling around them soundlessly.

He doesn’t know how long he lies there, thinking back on the past and all the memories they made, but Seungcheol turns when he hears Jihoon roll over in his sleep. In the slight glow of the moonlight that streams through the gap in their curtains, Seungcheol traces the lines of Jihoon’s small shoulders in his mind, the soft material of his t-shirt against his back. Seungcheol hasn’t held Jihoon in years, after he stopped reaching for him when he got woken up in the middle of the night when Jihoon would crawl into bed at the early hours of the morning. Jihoon would always laugh that soft, breathless laugh, and snuggle into Seungcheol’s embrace, settling down to sleep like that.

Seungcheol hasn’t held Jihoon in years, but he looks at Jihoon’s small shoulders and tries to remember what it was like.


	7. seven

It hasn't really changed, Jihoon thinks as he steps onto the grounds of their old college. Some of the trees are older, more flowers in the leaves, and some of the buildings look a little different - renovated and refurbished, but the paths are still worn and the grounds are filled with students who rush about and students who lounge on the grass.

Seungcheol looks like he's remembering warm afternoons on the grass, as he stands beside Jihoon, taking everything in.

"Come on, this way," Jihoon says, taking off in one direction. He doesn't even need to turn around to know that Seungcheol is beside him.

He enters a familiar old building. The lights here are older, flickering against the empty beige walls. Seungcheol laughs softly as he steps inside, tapping Jihoon's shoulder. The two of them turn to look at a billboard full of student notices, but it's the plaque stuck at the top that catches their attention. It's the list of winners of the college's annual music competition. Jihoon's name sits there, three years in a row.

Jihoon flushes a little as Seungcheol grins at him, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Jihoon feels his face heat up more, especially when Seungcheol's hand doesn't retract after he's done, instead moving to rest on Jihoon's shoulder, Seungcheol's arm around him, like he often used to do during college.

Jihoon realises that he actually missed the familiar weight of Seungcheol's hand on his shoulder.

He's distracted by Seungcheol pointing out that they've now got a piano group and that it seems like there's more than one band now. Jihoon just nods and murmurs relief because the only band that existed when they were in college were overly arrogant music snobs who didn't let anyone join unless they were exceptionally skilled and likewise narrow minded.

Seungcheol laughs softly, and the two make their way down the corridor, passing old classrooms.

Even though they had taken different classes - Seungcheol taking business, and Jihoon taking music production - the two had often attended each other's classes. If Seungcheol had a break but Jihoon had a class, Seungcheol would sit in on the class and do his own study while Jihoon learnt the intricacies of microphones and soundboards; and vice versa.

Jihoon remembers that Seungcheol would often fall asleep in his music software class on Wednesdays in third year, because it ran until 7pm. The amount of times he had to shake his boyfriend awake so that he wouldn't snore and disturb the class.....

Seungcheol points out the classroom where the music software class was, like he's remembering the same memories. Jihoon smiles as they creep past it, someone inside giving a lecture about classical musical history.

He remembers the music history class he had to take, how bored he always was in there, because Seungcheol would have his Advanced Management at the same time, with a super strict teacher, so they couldn't even text each other. Jihoon remembers always coming out of class to a brightly smiling Seungcheol though, waiting for him outside the classroom to kiss him softly and say "Let's go home,"

It was those kind of moments that made Jihoon think they would be forever.

Jihoon wonders when he stopped thinking that.

Jihoon snaps out of his thoughts when Seungcheol's hand at his shoulder squeezes it slightly, and he realises that Seungcheol still has his arm around him.

"Remember this room?" Seungcheol asks excitedly and Jihoon smiles.

"Yeah," he says softly and Seungcheol peeks through the window to see if it's occupied, before grinning at Jihoon and pushing the door open.

The small music room at the end of the corridor is unchanged, soundproofed walls still dark grey. The keyboard in the corner has changed to a newer model and there's an extra chair now. The music stand is still the same rusting one from all those years ago.

Jihoon goes over to turn on the keyboard and Seungcheol takes the other seat. Jihoon sits down as he plays a C. The sound is clear in the silent room. Jihoon turns to see Seungcheol grinning at him, one arm on the edge of the keyboard as he leans forward. Jihoon remembers cold winter evenings here, when he was doing his composition classes and would end up in the same room over and over, Seungcheol by his side, as he tried to desperately come up with melodies for his assignments. Whenever Jihoon got stressed out, Seungcheol would always hold him, almost like a child, and press gentle kisses against his hair, as if to remind him that it was okay, no assignment was going to be the end of the world.

Jihoon shakes himself of the memories, trying to calm his quickening heart beat as he finally listens to what Seungcheol is saying.

"... when we covered _Guilty_? And _Good Morning_? I still remembering how we had to keep reminding Soonyoung to be quiet when he recorded," Seungcheol laughs softly and Jihoon smiles, remembering too.

"It's just one of the many places of memories here," Jihoon says softly. Seungcheol is smiling warmly when Jihoon looks at him.

"Yeah it is," he says, and his tone is so gentle, Jihoon thinks of all the warm words Seungcheol used to whisper in his ear. Sometimes it was when they were in class and sometimes with friends, because Seungcheol loved watching the normally cool and collected Jihoon become flustered and tongue-tied in front of others. But most of the time, it was when they were alone, when Seungcheol said it simply because he wanted Jihoon to know - that he admired his intelligence, envied his musical instinct, was proud of his accomplishments, loved every single part of him that made up Lee Jihoon.  
Right now, Seungcheol is pressing random keys on the keyboard and it's complete nonsense - the same three keys in varying patterns. Jihoon snorts and gets to his feet.

"Come on, let's go," he says.

Seungcheol looks up at him, calm expectation in his eyes. "Where to?" he asks.

Jihoon just smiles. "More memories," is all he says. But Seungcheol understands, because he just smiles in return.

The business building has more students hurrying around than the music building did. Seungcheol shudders when they pass a certain lecture hall, murmuring "Accounting" under his breath and Jihoon has to stifle his laughter. He remembers when Seungcheol had to take the required accounting class, claiming it his worst nightmare. Jihoon had sat in on several of the classes, and he understood why Seungcheol hated. Too many numbers and journals and debits and credits and what the hell was the difference between gross profit and net profit?

The library is connected to the business building on the second floor, and Jihoon remembers long days and late night study sessions. Jihoon often went to sleep with his head on Seungcheol's lap as the older studied for his finals. Jihoon's classes didn't often have exams (having large assignments throughout the semester instead) and even when they did, they never had the same amount of content as Seungcheol's business classes did. Jihoon remembers how he sometimes had to carry some of Seungcheol's fat textbooks, because they didn't fit in either of their backpacks _or_ Seungcheol's arms.  
He's kind of lucky though, because Jeonghan often had to help Jisoo with his law books, and those looked even worse. (Jeonghan also complained much more.)

"Remember when Seungkwan got kicked out of the library, after Seokmin made that joke about the giraffe?" Seungcheol says.

Jihoon just smiles in reply, but his heart is warm in his chest. The fact that Seungcheol is the one bringing up all the old memories is almost soothing compared to the cool pain of the last week.

"Well, Hansol got him back for it on Seungkwan’s behalf, when we went for barbeque after Seungkwan got the internship at the TV station, and Seokmin got kicked out for trying to imitate an animal and knocking over a trolley," Jihoon chuckles.

"Talking about barbeque...." Seungcheol trails off and Jihoon follows his gaze to see him staring at the cafe outside the library.

Jihoon laughs and earns a glare from the librarian. He grins sheepishly while Seungcheol throws him a wicked smirk. Jihoon nudges him and they shuffle out of the library.

"Come on, I'm hungry," Seungcheol says, and this time, when Seungcheol grabs his wrist to drag him to the cafe, Jihoon only smiles.

They spend the afternoon lying on the grass, where their group often spent their free time, reminiscing old memories.

They once had a food fight after Soonyoung tipped Mingyu's soda back further when he was drinking, making the younger splutter and choke as soda spilled all over his shirt front. Mingyu and Wonwoo had simultaneously replied with popcorn pieces in Soonyoung's hair, which actually landed on Junhui, and then it somehow it became a full on food fight. Jihoon got tomato sauce on his face and in his hair - he doesn't even know how - and Seungcheol had half of Jihoon's kimbap on his sweater, even though Jihoon hadn't thrown it.

As soon as there was a split second of silence and stillness, everyone had just burst into hysterical laughter.

In the cool breeze of the afternoon, they remember old memories. Someone recognises Jihoon and asks for an autograph, and Seungcheol has to nudge the surprised Jihoon before the younger nods and accepts the pen and notebook.

Seungcheol teases him after the student has left and Jihoon scowls with pink cheeks before saying he's going to get more food. Seungcheol just laughs and waits on the grass as Jihoon buys ice-cream from the cafe.

He's mildly impressed that Jihoon remembers his favourite flavour - cherry jubilee. He sees vanilla in Jihoon's other hand, and smiles to himself that he hasn't forgotten - if only because they used to bicker about how Jihoon could like "such a bland flavour" (Seungcheol's words, of course).

They spend most of the afternoon there, just talking, about so many different things. But even when there’s a lull in the conversation the silence isn’t as uncomfortable, as stifling.

They’re halfway through a debate whether certain departments should get more funding solely because it has more students when Jihoon gets to his feet with a heavy sigh.

“This is driving me crazy, let’s go,” he says, brushing grass from his jeans.

Seungcheol laughs brightly, clenching his fist in victory, because this is the closest Jihoon gets to admitting defeat. He gets to his feet. “Home?” he asks as he sees the sun low in the sky. It’s almost time for dinner.

Jihoon just smiles softly. “I have one more place I want to go to today,” he says.

Seungcheol recognises the place as soon as they round the corner from where they parked.

It’s the sticky, old run-down convenience store down the road from Jihoon’s parents’ place, where Seungcheol had proposed on creaking, rickety chairs. They were twenty-one - Seungcheol had just graduated, Jihoon was about to.

That night, Jihoon had snuck out past his curfew to meet him and they were sharing instant ramyun when Seungcheol pulled out a cheap twisted piece of metal of a ring that had a lopsided musical note on it. He said it reminded him of Jihoon, wanted Jihoon to have it. Jihoon had choked on his noodles before laughing nervously to cover it.

“I thought you were proposing,” Jihoon had said, laughing again.

Seungcheol had stared at him for a moment. Jihoon didn’t know at the time, but Seungcheol hadn’t planned it like that. Seungcheol had always intended to spend forever with Jihoon, but never thought to ask like that. And yet, when Jihoon said those words, it felt like there was only one thing to say in reply.

“I am proposing, Jihoon,” Seungcheol had said, totally serious. “I know it’s not a fancy ring, and when I have enough money, I’ll get you a proper one, but I am asking if you’ll spend the rest of your life with me,”

For a moment, no one said anything, the two of them just staring at each other, the musical note ring in Seungcheol’s hand between them. Then, Jihoon smiled, took the ring and put it on and told him to eat his share of ramyun before it got cold. “I’ll make sure you at least eat proper instant ramyun,” he had said. And when Seungcheol had looked up at him, confused, Jihoon just raised his hand and showed off his ring with a smile, as he said, “For the rest of our lives, right?”

Seungcheol’s smile that day was so bright, rivalled only by Jihoon’s smile.

Now, the convenience store has replaced their unstable plastic chairs with metal ones with peeling paint, and Jihoon smiles when Seungcheol hands him a red one before taking a blue one for himself.  
Jihoon makes them instant ramyun while Seungcheol takes a call from work. He makes sure to make it just right. He promised a long time ago, after all.

Seungcheol sighs heavily when he finally hangs up, as Jihoon takes his seat at their table.

“Everything okay?” Jihoon asks they wait for their noodles to cook in their polystyrene cups. Two cans of beer sit beside their dinner - the kind of meals they had while they were in college and the early working years.

“I know we said no work, but there’s this function in a few days that I’m supposed to go to, representing the company and all that. I tried to get out of it, but the other department head just backed out and - ” Seungcheol rubs at his tired eyes and Jihoon smiles. He looks like a tired puppy, and it’s endearing.

“It’s fine, you can go if you need to,” Jihoon says and Seungcheol looks surprised.

“Are you sure?” he sounds uncertain and Jihoon nods.

“It was unrealistic to think both of us could really avoid work for a whole month,” Jihoon laughs softly.

Seungcheol looks at him for a moment, as if analysing his expression to figure out if it really is okay or not. Eventually he says, “Do you want to go with me?”

Jihoon stares at him, a little bug-eyed. “What?”

“The function, come with me. I constantly get asked where my other half is anyway,” Seungcheol smiles tiredly, “And Jeonghan will be there. He wants to see you too,”

Jihoon rolls his eyes a little. “I can meet Jeonghan-hyung at another time,”

“Please, Jihoon? I’ll be so bored,” Seungcheol whines and Jihoon raises an eyebrow as Seungcheol flops on top of the table. “Besides, then we can spend time together still, just like we did when you had to finish that song for your work.”

Jihoon sighs. “I guess it’s fair, since I had to work too.” Seungcheol brightens, and Jihoon is once again reminded of an eager puppy. He hears himself laughing. “Okay, I’ll go,”

Seungcheol beams brightly and Jihoon looks away, feeling self-conscious from the way Seungcheol is looking at him. He feels so…. _adored_. But he quickly extinguishes the hope that flares in his chest. Seungcheol doesn’t feel that kind of affection for him. At least, not anymore.

“The noodles should be ready,” he says instead, handing Seungcheol chopsticks before digging into his own noodles.

Seungcheol watches Jihoon practically inhale his first mouthful before looking away when Jihoon glances up at him. He looks around the quiet neighbourhood. It’s familiar, but so much has changed, it’s also foreign.

“We never really ate instant ramyun together at a convenience store after that night, did we?” Jihoon asks quietly. He’s referring to the night Seungcheol proposed. Seungcheol remembers how it wasn’t planned, but it was the only thing he was sure of then - back when he felt like he was walking without direction, going nowhere. But he knew he wanted Jihoon with him every step of the way.

And yet, here they are, twenty days away from getting a divorce.

“You got that work placement a few days later,” Seungcheol says quietly, poking at his noodles before finally taking a bite. It tastes heavenly.

Jihoon smiles to himself, opening his can of beer. “Then I graduated and we moved into our first apartment. You were working so many odd jobs,”

“We made it work though,” Seungcheol says, opening his beer too.

Jihoon meets his gaze and the question is silent between them. _Why can’t we make it work anymore?_

Silence envelopes them as they both take a gulp of their beer. Jihoon offers him a small smile.

“I’m sorry I never made you proper ramyun,” Jihoon says, referring to his answer, all those years ago. He had promised to make Seungcheol proper ramyun when they were married.  
Seungcheol gestures to the polystyrene bowl in front of him. “You did,” he says and they share smiles.

Jihoon feels something akin to closure settle in his chest. Like maybe, he’ll cope that little bit better when they divorce, because at least he fulfilled that promise to make Seungcheol proper ramyun, even if it was seven years later and right before the end of their marriage. Like it’ll be that little bit easier to move on; Jihoon thinks he’s going to need every little bit.

Later, Jihoon picks up their empty bowls and Seungcheol grabs the empty beer cans and they toss it into the bin before leaving. Seungcheol takes Jihoon’s hand on the way back to the car and asks if he’s cold. Jihoon hides his smile and says he’s fine.

Seungcheol’s hand is warm in his.

That night, they turn to face each other as they settle down to sleep. Seungcheol smiles softly and murmurs a quiet “Goodnight.” Jihoon whispers it back and falls asleep with a smile on his face.


	8. eight

“Do you even remember how to play this?” Jihoon asks, tilting his head, as if it’ll help him remember how to play the drum game in front of him.

The mall bustles with people filling stores, buying food from the food court. Situated in a corner of the mall, the games arcade isn’t too busy. There are a few young families and a couple of young boys around - probably college kids skipping class or mucking around between classes. Jihoon remembers when that was them.

That morning, Seungcheol had suggested the arcade at the same moment Jihoon said he wanted to go. They had shared a playful grin over their small table in the kitchen, and Jihoon had felt like it was the old days again.

And here they were, standing in front of the first game at the games arcade.

In answer to his question, Seungcheol just shrugs and picks up the wooden sticks, handing the other pair to Jihoon.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Seungcheol murmurs, and then the game is starting and Jihoon flounders to start.

He ends up winning, because Seungcheol might have a slightly better sense of rhythm, but Jihoon has better hand-eye co-ordination.

They play the drum game a few times, then play shooters, and air hockey, and the basketball game. There’s a lot of yelling and the occasional shove of shoulders and bright laughter.

It makes Jihoon think of rainy spring days where they would spend their afternoons at game arcades much like this one. Sometimes it was just them, sometimes Soonyoung was with them, sometimes it was the whole group.

Regardless how many of them there were though, Jihoon would always be able to turn around and find Seungcheol by his side.

It was a comfort Jihoon didn’t realise he treasured until it disappeared.

Seungcheol wins a lot of tickets on the hammer game, missing out on beating the high score by a few points. He falls to his knees dramatically, while Jihoon just laughs, nearly falling over in mirth.

They wait for the tickets to finish spewing out of the machine and talk about getting dinner at a nearby restaurant, just outside the mall. Seungcheol says he wants boba first and Jihoon just smiles as they collect their tickets. They choose pointlessly childish prizes like plastic water guns, and slinkies, and cans of silly string that Seungcheol immediately begins to spray in Jihoon’s hair. Jihoon gapes before grabbing the can and spraying him in return.

Seungcheol laughs as the two of them stumble out of the games arcade, Jihoon still trying to get silly string down Seungcheol’s shirt.

“Okay, okay, stop before security kicks us out or something,” Seungcheol laughs. He’s completely covered in silly string, compared to the measly few bits in Jihoon’s hair. Jihoon smirks, satisfied.

“Go get your boba, then we can go eat,” Jihoon says, pointing to the boba stand just a few metres away.

“You expect me to go like this?” Seungcheol asks, gesturing at all the silly string. Jihoon smirks.

“Yes,”

Seungcheol grumbles but trudges off and Jihoon laughs quietly to himself as he sits on the nearby bench. He’s picking out the last bits of silly string from his hair when a couple of guys approach him.

“Hey cutie, you and your brother want join us for some other games?”

Jihoon blinks up at them, confused.

“Sorry, what?”

“Games,” the guy says again, “we were watching you guys play in the arcade, and were wondering if you’d like to join us for some other, more fun, games.” He flashes a wolfish grin.

“Jihoon?” Seungcheol appears behind the guys, boba drinks in hand. He’s pretending to be casual, but Jihoon can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s wary.

“I was just asking your little brother here if you two wanted to join us for some other games,” the first guy says, a wicked grin on his face. “You know, the fun kind,” and he sends Jihoon a dirty wink. Jihoon feels a cold shudder run through his body.

“Brother?” Seungcheol echoes. “He’s my husband,”

The other guy scoffs. “Yeah, right,” and the first one snickers too.

Jihoon raises his left hand to show his wedding band. “We’ve been married for six years,” he says bluntly.

The two guys make faces, almost as if they’re disgusted. What at, Jihoon doesn’t know, but there’s an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach.

“What the hell? You two don’t act like you’re together at all,” the second guy says. “Are you even dating?”

“We’re married,” Seungcheol grits out, and his grip on their drinks tightens. “Please leave, we’re not interested,”

“You’re weird,” the first one says, taking his friend by the arm and tugging him away, “forget we asked. We wouldn’t want to be around you anyway.”

Seungcheol is frowning and Jihoon feels sick. He’s realising why he feels uncomfortable - because he agrees with them. He and Seungcheol don’t act like they’re married at all. Friends maybe, or brothers, but not married.

They’re right, Jihoon thinks, resignation seeping into his chest. They don’t act like they’re together, why should they keep pretending they are? Marriage is a label on a love that they no longer share.  
Someone once said the opposite to love wasn’t hate, it's indifference. And Jihoon is pretty sure all he and Seungcheol share now, all that they’ve shared the last few years, is indifference.

“ - hoon. Jihoon.”

Jihoon is snapped out of his thoughts as he feels Seungcheol’s grip around his arm tighten. “You okay?” he asks, concern marring his features with a frown. The drinks are on the bench beside him.

“Yeah,” Jihoon says, carefully extracting himself from Seungcheol’s grip. He takes a deep breath before he grabs one of the drinks and takes a sip.

Seungcheol frowns more. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. I’m fine. What did you want for dinner again?” Jihoon stands up and starts walking.

Seungcheol catches up easily. “You’re not fine. Talk to me,” he demands.

“Really, I’m fine. Was it Chinese?”

Jihoon is stopped by a hand around his arm, yanking him back to face Seungcheol. His face is thunderous. “I know there are some things you sort out yourself, but this isn’t one of them. Why can’t you just tell me?”

Jihoon doesn’t have the energy to keep up pleasantries anymore. “Oh really? You know me that well? Then you should know what’s going on in my head,” and now Jihoon can’t stop. He knows he shouldn’t say anymore, needs to stop himself spitting out all the bitter, biting words; but this is all his body can do now - now, when he’s trying to resign himself to the feeling of bitter acceptance that the divorce is the right thing, and cope with his heart collapsing in his chest. “But the fact is, you can’t. You don’t know me anymore; you don’t know what goes on in my head, or what I think, or want. We stopped knowing things like that years ago, when we stopped being husbands, and started being strangers.”

“You think we’re like strangers?” Seungcheol’s voice is like steel.

“You want to ignore the reality, then that’s fine with me,” Jihoon snaps, “but it’s the truth, and those random strangers could see it better than we could. They were right, and we both know it.”

Jihoon forces a shaky breath. “You were right about the divorce. There is no “us” to fight for anymore.”

And when Jihoon stomps out of the shopping mall, Seungcheol doesn’t follow.

They eat dinner separately, and when Seungcheol returns to the apartment late, Jihoon is already curled up in bed. He’s awake, but he doesn’t turn when Seungcheol climbs into bed, just keeps facing the opposite wall, their backs to each other - just like how they’ve always slept the past few years.

The whole room feels cold despite the summer air, and Jihoon knows Seungcheol takes just as many hours to fall asleep too.

Jihoon is drenched in cold sweat when he jolts awake, sitting upright in bed. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, the sneers and disgusted looks from his nightmare come back and then the shaking starts.

_I’m better without you. I don’t need you._

Jihoon curls up into a ball and fights back tears. They come anyway.

_You’re not worth anything._

He can’t stop shaking. He doesn’t know if he’s cold, but he feels like there are icicles in his chest.

_Who would ever choose to be with you?_

“Jihoon?”

_I can’t believe I wasted my time on you._

“Jihoon? Hey, are you okay?”

_You’re a terrible partner._

Jihoon jumps at the hand at his shoulder, and he lifts tear-filled eyes to stare at Seungcheol, who’s beside him and looking at him with worry.

He instinctively flinches, the voices in his head still speaking. He wants to move away, but his limbs aren’t responding to him.

_I don’t love you. I never did. Who would?_

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

Jihoon can’t speak. The voice of Seungcheol from his nightmare is blurring with the voice of Seungcheol in front of him.

“Hey, I’m here. It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

Jihoon just feels the tears come back, and he can’t help the sob that lodges itself in his throat as he tries to scramble away, just a little. He doesn’t actually move anywhere, but the message is clear.  
Seungcheol hesitates, but doesn’t move closer, just keeps his hands firmly gripping Jihoon’s arms, trying to ground him. When Seungcheol’s hand hesitantly reaches over to brush some of his hair out of his face, Jihoon feels the gentleness. He involuntarily lets out a whimper.

“Shh, it’s okay, nothing is going to get you. I’m here, it’s okay.”

Jihoon shakes his head, voice still stuck in his throat. The panic just won’t dissipate.

“It’s okay, Jihoon, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Jihoon finally manages to choke out. He’s sobbing now, and he can’t stop. The sadness and fear and hurt melding together, and he can’t seem to separate them or push them aside. He feels like a lost child.

“It’s not okay, everything’s all wrong. I - ” he chokes back a sob.

“Jihoon - ”

“Why do you want a divorce?”

Seungcheol, understandably, looks surprised at the sudden question.

“Jihoon, what - ”

“Am I not good enough anymore? What did I do wrong?” Jihoon tries to pull out of Seungcheol’s grip, but the other doesn’t let go, continuing to hold onto him tightly.

“Jihoon, it’s not that at all - ”

“Then why?!” and he’s hysterical now, he knows it. Jihoon, who has always kept such a tight control of his emotions, feels all those emotions slip from his fingers to a helpless mess on the ground.  
Seungcheol’s lips are pursed tightly.

“Seungcheol - ”

“Because I thought it would help,” he says softly.

Jihoon’s harsh breathing is the only sound in the room.

Seungcheol meets Jihoon’s gaze and ‘broken’ would be the only way to describe the look in his eyes. “I thought I was holding you back. That this marriage, the label of marriage, was keeping you from doing your own thing, from me doing my own thing - that it wasn’t letting us be true to ourselves and strive for more.”

“I thought you didn’t need me anymore, so I thought it’d be better if we just went our separate ways. If we didn’t tie each other down,” Seungcheol says, gaze lowered, though he’s still holding onto Jihoon’s arm. “I don’t see us helping each other anymore, all we do is hurt each other by being together. It was… kinder to let you go,”

“Let me go?” Jihoon breathes, “Because being with me… hurts?” his voice quivers but he can’t even hide the pain that’s tearing his chest open.

Seungcheol opens his mouth, like he wants to contradict, say the opposite, comfort and console. But he knows he can’t. Because he’s said those words and he can’t take them back.

“Is that why don’t you hold me anymore?”

Jihoon blinks and the tears that had stopped are falling again. Seungcheol instinctively moves to pull him closer, but Jihoon’s hands on Seungcheol’s chest push him away weakly.

“You used to hold me at night, at random points in the day. Greet me with a hug and a smile. Even when I started working different hours, and it’d be like three in the morning, you would still reach for me, hold me,” he takes a shaky, desperate breath, then pushes at Seungcheol’s shoulders again, almost angrily, but it’s so weak. “Now we may as well have separate beds, because you don’t anymore. You barely ever touch me. Is it because it hurts you to do those things now? You don’t talk to me, about anything. You used to always say me that you’ll keep me safe, protect me. You used to remind me that you’re here, that everything’s okay, that - ”

Jihoon stops as Seungcheol wraps both arms around him and pulls him to his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he takes a shuddering breath, “I thought you didn’t need me to tell you that anymore,” Seungcheol says softly into Jihoon’s ear. He buries his nose into Jihoon’s neck, and he can smell that scent of peach shampoo and instant mix coffee. Jihoon’s smell. “I’m so sorry, Jihoon,”

Jihoon chokes on the rest of the words he wants to say as the tears fall again. Seungcheol just holds him tighter and whispers soft promises of protecting him, of keeping him safe. He breathes tender words, reminding him that he’ll always take care of him, always be there. Like he always used to.

For Jihoon, the voices of nightmare Seungcheol and the Seungcheol by his side have finally stopped blurring together. Seungcheol in his nightmare was yelling or speaking in that tight, angry voice he uses when he’s furious but trying not to yell. But Seungcheol by his side is speaking in a soft, gentle voice, rubbing little circles into his back as he holds Jihoon close.

He still can’t stop crying though, whole body shuddering as he tries to calm down, only for a new wave of emotions to come back. Seungcheol just holds him, rubs circles on his back, and runs his hands through his hair.

Jihoon falls asleep there, with tear stained cheeks, in Seungcheol’s embrace.

He wakes up in the early morning to Seungcheol still holding him, the two of them sharing Seungcheol’s pillow. Seungcheol’s still asleep, long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. Jihoon can see the dried tears there too.

He carefully brushes at the soft skin, and feels Seungcheol pull him closer. Jihoon smiles, snuggles closer, and welcomes sleep again.


	9. nine

When Jihoon wakes again, it’s to Seungcheol humming softly as he plays with Jihoon’s hair. Jihoon blinks twice and then Seungcheol is smiling warmly at him as he murmurs as soft “Good morning,”

It takes him a moment, but eventually Jihoon’s lips quirk into a smile too, as he whispers a barely audible “Good morning,” in return.

They lie in bed until midday, talking quietly. Seungcheol’s arms don’t move from around Jihoon’s waist. Every now and again, Jihoon just smiles to himself and tries to memorise the warmth of Seungcheol’s arms around him.

Eventually, Seungcheol’s stomach growls, interrupting their soft, whispered conversation.

Jihoon laughs gently, and Seungcheol can feel his whole body shake in his arms.

“We should get up and eat something,” Jihoon says, trying to extract himself from Seungcheol’s embrace, but Seungcheol doesn’t let go. The older makes a face, lips jutting out in a pout, and Jihoon pinches his cheek, cooing, before laughing again.

“Come on, you big puppy,” he says, and this time he manages to get free as he sits up.

They make some fried noodles, sharing it over their little kitchen table as Jihoon recounts a story the lady at the fruit shop told him about her son’s friend. Seungcheol listens intently, chewing noodles and playing with Jihoon’s feet under the table.

When they’re done, they clean up and do some more laundry. Jihoon irons all their shirts that have been piling up over the weeks while Seungcheol vacuums.

Jihoon has never seen the apartment so organised since they first moved in, and that realisation brings about giddy happiness, as well as sadness. Because Jihoon is reminded how well they work together, but also remembers it’s only like this because it’s their last days together, before they divorce and go their own ways, for good.

It’s late afternoon when Seungcheol sits up from where he’s flopped on the couch.

“We have to start getting ready soon,” he says. It takes Jihoon a moment to remember that the work function that Seungcheol has to attend is tonight.

“Oh,” he says, “I hope my suit isn’t too creased.”

Seungcheol grins, as Jihoon disappears to go find his suit. He showers first while Jihoon irons out his suit. He hasn’t had to wear one for years - being a music producer doesn’t require him to wear a suit often. Seungcheol, on the other hand, wears one every day.

“Do you still have your bowtie?” Seungcheol asks as Jihoon comes out of the bathroom, towelling his hair dry.

Jihoon looks scared. “We need to be in a tux?” he asks.

“Not really. It says formal, but it doesn’t matter that much. I just thought you look better with a bow tie,” Seungcheol answers. “If not, I can lend you mine.”

Jihoon makes a face. “If I’m wearing a bowtie, you are too,” he huffs. “I don’t want to be the odd one out or anything,”

Seungcheol laughs a little. “Okay, well, go find your bowtie then.”

Jihoon finds it eventually, under a pile of scarves and gloves. But Seungcheol is the one who has to tie it for him, because Jihoon can’t remember the last time he wore a bowtie. Part of him thinks it might have been the wedding.

Seungcheol’s face is close as he deftly does Jihoon’s bowtie, and the younger determinedly looks away. He pushes away the butterflies that flutter around his stomach.

_He’s not leaning in to kiss you, idiot,_ he scolds himself, because that’s the kind of memories that surface. The nervousness of first kisses, of second kisses, of every kiss that Seungcheol ever gave him, because Jihoon never stopped feeling the butterflies before a kiss, nor the happy warmth after.

“You clean up pretty good,” Seungcheol teases when he gives Jihoon a once over, when they’re both ready. Jihoon flushes, but covers it by pinching Seungcheol’s arm. The older yelps at that and Jihoon grins, satisfied.

Seungcheol glances at the clock and sighs a little. “Come on, we shouldn’t be late,” he says. Jihoon smiles softly and follows him out the door.

The drive is quiet, save Seungcheol trying to explain the function a little. It’s the fiftieth anniversary of one of their biggest clients, and they were throwing a huge ball, with some fundraising for charity at the end.

“It’ll be long, and a little boring, but just smile and talk pleasantly to everyone, and you’ll get through it,” Seungcheol says. Jihoon laughs quietly as their car glides into the car park.

They get into the lift and Jihoon straightens Seungcheol’s bowtie. He gives him a small smile.

“Thanks, Jihoon,” he says as the lift shoots up towards the lobby.

“You’re welcome. And don’t worry,” Jihoon says, Seungcheol looking at him curiously, “I won’t mention the divorce or anything.”

Seungcheol can’t hide his surprise. Not that he expected Jihoon to say anything - he hadn't even thought about it. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out as the lift arrives at the lobby and the doors slide open.

They’re immediately spotted by one of Seungcheol’s fellow managers, whom Jihoon is introduced to, and they get ushered into the large ball room quickly.

Seungcheol gets some fruit-flavoured soft drink for both of them, handing Jihoon the pink drink. Jihoon quirks an eyebrow at him, because he knows they’re serving Seungcheol’s favourite wine.

“I don’t drink at business functions,” Seungcheol leans over to say over the loud chatter of all the people, “it’s unprofessional.”

Jihoon smiles behind his glass, because he knows Seungcheol is professional when he works, but it’s still a little surreal sometimes. Seungcheol looks at him for a moment longer and Jihoon stares back, confused.

“Your eyes are still a little red, from last night,” Seungcheol says softly, thumb running under one eye.

Jihoon doesn’t get a chance to say anything, cheeks merely heating up as a voice calls out to both of them. They turn to see Jisoo and Jeonghan walking over to them.

“Hey,” Seungcheol greets casually. Jisoo returns the greeting, usual gentle smile on his lips.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, is bursting with energy. He nearly smothers Jihoon as he hugs him, chatting away happily, while Jihoon looks a little perplexed, trying not to spill his drink.

Jeonghan invites them over at the end of week, because he and Jisoo just moved into a small suburban townhouse, and they were having everyone over for a housewarming. Jihoon glances at Seungcheol, before agreeing with a small smile.

After a while, Seungcheol gets called by a tall caucasian man, and he beckons to Jihoon quietly. Jeonghan finally lets the boy free as Jihoon scuttles to follow Seungcheol.

He and Jisoo watch the two of them, as Seungcheol shakes hands with the other man, before introducing Jihoon, who bows and smiles brightly.

“Can you really believe they’re getting divorced?” Jeonghan asks, leaning against Jisoo’s side, Jisoo’s hand around his waist.

Jisoo heaves a sigh. “It is hard to believe. When I asked Seungcheol, when we first found out, he really did seem tired of it, and I could sort of believe it, even if I didn’t want to,” Jisoo says, “But now…”

Jeonghan sighs a little, making a face. Seungcheol, on the other side of the room, has a hand around Jihoon’s waist, keeping him close. Jihoon is either ignoring it, or hasn’t noticed, animatedly talking to the small group in front of him. Seungcheol is watching him with such a gentle look in his eyes.

“There’s only so much you can pretend,” Jisoo says. Jeonghan hums his agreement.

“They’re lying to themselves if they think they don’t work, or don’t care about each other,” Jeonghan mutters.

“That’s for them to realise,” Jisoo says quietly.

Jeonghan sighs again before they’re called away by one of Jeonghan’s clients.

Seungcheol guides Jihoon to their table with a reassuring hand at the small of his back. Throughout dinner, Jihoon leans over often to comment on the food, or ask Seungcheol who’s speaking now. Seungcheol smiles warmly and entertains him, often keeping a hand at the back of Jihoon’s chair when they aren’t eating. He tells Jihoon all the important people speaking, who runs which company, who’s connected to who. Jihoon is almost dizzy just trying to keep up, but he realises that this is the admirable thing about Seungcheol, what makes him so good at what he does. He remembers all of it, and all the little details, like who recently went overseas, who got a promotion the other week, who knows who.

At one point, Seungcheol leans over to tell Jihoon to try the biscuits they’ve served with the after-dinner coffee and tea. He rests a warm hand on Jihoon’s thigh as he speaks and Jihoon doesn’t know what to focus on - the hand on his thigh, or the deep voice in his ear. Both are equally distracting.

Even after Jihoon reaches over to take a biscuit, taking a bite and turning to tell Seungcheol it’s good, Seungcheol’s hand doesn’t move from his thigh, eyes still trained on him. Jihoon feels his skin scrawl from the attention, because Seungcheol is watching him even as he meekly takes another one, biting off half. Jihoon glances at him and feels the flush creep up his neck as he finds Seungcheol still watching him. He hesitates for a moment before leaning over the small distance between them and feeding Seungcheol the other half. Seungcheol chews it with a smile, eyes never leaving Jihoon’s, and the younger is the one to look away first, taking a deep breath as he tries to keep his hands from shaking as he reaches for his coffee.

After all the formalities are over and people start dispersing, Jihoon gets introduced to more people, Seungcheol smoothly calling him his ‘other half’. Mostly the business people exclaim “Finally!” and “It’s nice to meet you,”, but few correct Seungcheol with a grin, saying “You mean your better half.” And Seungcheol smiles brightly or laughs good-naturedly, pulls Jihoon closer, and agrees with them.

Jihoon hopes the happy flush to his cheeks isn’t obvious, just smiles brightly and bids various people goodbye with Seungcheol’s hand warm at his waist again.

They fall asleep with Jihoon's head on Seungcheol's shoulder and Seungcheol's hand around Jihoon's waist, like it had been all night.


	10. ten

“Let’s go to the beach today,” Jihoon says as he looks at his list in his notebook again. Seungcheol smiles through a mouthful of bread and nods.

“Sure, it’s cloudy today, so there’ll be less people too,” he says. He’s just finishing his coffee when he hears his phone ringing from where he’s left it on the kitchen bench.

Seungcheol gets up, sees the caller ID, and answers it as he gulps down the last of his coffee.

“Hey, Seungkwan,” he says, grin spreading across his face as the bright voice of Seungkwan answers.

“Hyung! I heard from Jeonghan-hyung that you're on leave from work? Hyung, please, please, please! I need you to do me a huge favour. Hansol is working all day, and I’m not meant to go to the broadcasting station until this evening, but the electrician just called and said he’ll come fix that faulty light that’s been bugging us for ages, and Yoojung is sick so she can’t go to kindergarten, but I don't want her around when he's working on it, and I also need to - ”

“Seungkwan. Breathe. In and out,” Seungcheol says, trying not to laugh. “You need us to look after Yoojung for a few hours?”

Yoojung is Seungkwan and Hansol’s fatally adorable three year old daughter. Jihoon looks up at Seungcheol in mild horror at the mention of her name. Jihoon doesn't exactly have a fear of children per se - he has a fear of not looking after children properly. He’s scared of accidentally hurting them or making them cry.

Seungkwan had initially thought Jihoon disliked his and Hansol’s baby girl, and had sulked over it for a while. That is, until Seungcheol had quietly pulled him aside and explained Jihoon’s fear. (After which, Seungkwan found it adorable, and Jihoon had been incredibly unimpressed with Seungcheol exposing his secrets.)

Jihoon hears Seungkwan’s voice squabble over the phone for a little longer and then Seungcheol is agreeing to see Seungkwan in half an hour.

“No,” Jihoon says as soon as Seungcheol hangs up. “We can't look after a child. I don't know how to…. do anything for a child!!!”

Nothing causes panic in Jihoon like the idea of having to look after someone's child.

Seungcheol laughs quietly. “Relax, Jihoon. It’s just Yoojung. She’s not even a baby anymore, you can’t really drop her or anything,”

“She’s three!” Jihoon squeaks, “She can still cry, or run into the table, or fall over, or miss her Dads or - ”

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol says, taking his hands in both of his. “Seungkwan and Hansol need us to do them a favour. And Yoojung adores you, and I’ll be here the whole time, okay?”

“She adored my pink hair that I had when she was still a baby, when she could only comprehend that I was different because I was a pretty colour,” Jihoon says bluntly. Seungcheol chuckles and ruffles his hair as he pulls him to his feet.

“Come on, we have to make the apartment childproof before Yoojung arrives,”

“Oh my God, this whole apartment is a danger zone,” Jihoon jumps out of his chair and rushes into the living room, picking up everything in a frenzy.

Seungcheol tries not to laugh and fails.

“I’m so sorry, hyung,” Seungkwan is breathless as he arrives at the door. “Do you think you could watch her until about five or six? I have to stop by the bank, but the PD just called me and said they need me for the afternoon, but it means I don’t have to work tonight, so I’ll be able to come with Hansol to pick her up and - ” he stops as Yoojung squirms in his arms, small arms around his neck holding onto him tighter.

Seungcheol smiles. “Sure, if I need anything, I’ll message you,” he says. Jihoon is hovering in the corridor, looking at Yoojung nervously.

Seungkwan is handing over two huge bags, explaining everything. “ - and I’ve got her medication in case she has a stomach ache - she needs this specific brand, and if you need a doctor, I’ve written down our family doctor on the back of her cough mixture, and her allergy tablets are in there as well and - ”

“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol laughs. “We’ll be fine. I’m sure whatever I need will be in there. I trust you,”

Seungwkan takes a deep breath and nods before finally turning to the little girl in his arms.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to play with Uncle Seungcheol and Uncle Jihoon for a few hours okay?”

The little girl, with full cheeks and two pigtails held by ties with pink ribbons, shakes her head and grips the plush bunny in her arms tighter. “No, I don’t want to, Dad,” she says, pouting, looking like she’s about to cry.

Seungkwan sighs, bouncing her on his hip. “It’s just for a few hours, baby, then Dad and I will be back to pick you up and we can play together, all three of us,”

“With Daddy?” Yoojung asks, but she still looks on the verge of tears. Seungkwan nods and presses a sloppy kiss to her cheek, making her giggle and wriggle a little.

“We have Frozen, do you want to watch Frozen?” Seungcheol asks, trying to entice her. She glances at him, teeth biting the ear of her bunny.

“Do you have Ra - Ra - ” she frowns, struggling, and Seungkwan laughs.

“Rapunzel, baby,” he turns to Seungcheol, “She likes Tangled,”

Seungcheol’s mouth falls open in realisation. “Oh, yeah, we have that. Let’s watch that and play with Uncle Jihoon and then your Dad will be back,”

Yoojung seems to be thinking it over. “After movie, Dad will be back?” she asks.

Seungkwan kisses her nose. “Two movies, then Dad will be back, promise,” he says.

Yoojung pouts, cheeks looking even puffier, before nodding reluctantly.

Seungkwan beams, kisses her twice and then hands her over to Seungcheol. Jihoon is by his side, picking up the bags.

“Thank you so much, hyungs, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Hansol already knows so he’ll try to leave work on time too,”

Seungcheol smiles and smoothes Yoojung’s hair. “We’ll be fine, won’t we?” he smiles at Yoojung. The little girl is gripping her bunny tightly and pouting as she watches Seungkwan take a few steps backward down the corridor.

“Bye, baby, Dad will be back soon!” Seungkwan says, and Seungcheol raises the bunny’s arm to wave while Yoojung just watches quietly. As soon as he goes around the corner, Seungcheol hears Seungkwan break into a run and he chuckles to himself, carrying Yoojung inside as Jihoon closes the door and grabs the bags.

“Are you hungry, Yoojung?” Seungcheol asks. For a moment she just stares at him, like she’s processing that she really is alone - and for that tense moment, Seungcheol thinks she’s going to cry. Jihoon likewise looks terrified and skittish, like a animal being hunted. Then Yoojung nods slowly and Jihoon lets out an audible sigh of relief.

Seungcheol grins and asks her if she wants dumplings. Yoojung brightens at that and Seungcheol thanks his memory for remembering that story Seungkwan told him a couple of weeks ago about Yoojung eating almost as many dumplings as Hansol.

True enough, Yoojung eats lots of dumplings. At first, Jihoon tries to help by putting more on her plate. But with the little pink plastic fork with flowers that Seungkwan had packed, and a smaller mouth than the average human, Yoojung is dropping pieces everywhere, the dumplings falling apart and dropping off her fork. Seungcheol tries not to laugh, amused, and Jihoon glares at him until Seungcheol gets a teaspoon and starts feeding her all the pieces.

After a while, they create a system, with Jihoon cutting the dumplings into pieces, and Seungcheol making the spoon go in circles before feeding her, Yoojung sometimes giggling so much that dumpling pieces drop. The first time it happens, Seungcheol turns to see Jihoon roll his eyes and shake his head, but he’s smiling and Seungcheol grins.

After lunch, as promised, Seungcheol puts on Tangled, and the three of them settle down on the couch to watch. As Seungcheol is setting it up, Jihoon gets up and gives Yoojung her medicine. She makes a face at the cherry red liquid, but Seungcheol, who’s holding her on his lap, tells her it’ll make her feel better, and she obediently swallows it, making another face even as Seungcheol coos at her and kisses her hair.

She gets really into the movie, and jumps a bit when Mother Gothel is being her scary self, but Seungcheol just holds her tightly and tells her that it’s okay, the good guys will win.

As the credits roll, Jihoon leans over to Seungcheol and whispers, “Do you think she’ll want to build a blanket fort?”

Seungcheol stares at him with wide eyes, like a light bulb just flickered to life above his head. He presses his cheek to the little girl’s. “Yoojung-ah, want to build a blanket fort with Uncle Jihoon?”  
Jihoon glances at him over Yoojung’s head. “Aren’t you going to join in?” he asks, and the quiet panic is evident in his voice.

“Blanket fort?” Yoojung asks, twisting to look at Jihoon, who tries to smiles warmly and not look as scared as he feels. “Like, a cubby house?”

“Yeah, a cubby house,” Jihoon says. He looks at Seungcheol, eyes silently asking.

“I just have to make a call, but I’ll be back in a few minutes, so why don’t you start first?” he asks.

The fear in Jihoon’s eyes almost makes him laugh as Seungcheol puts Yoojung down onto the couch beside him. She’s staring at Jihoon with bright eyes as he steps outside the apartment.

“Hey, Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says, kicking the edge of the wall by the front door of their apartment.

“Hyung! How is everything?”

“Is now an okay time to talk? You’re not recording now are you?”

“No, they’re having a break now. We’re running a bit behind schedule though, and Hansol called me to say he’s got a late meeting, so we might be a bit late to pick her up,” Seungkwan sighs.

“That’s fine, it’s going well, actually. Would you believe that right now, Jihoon is building a blanket fort with your daughter?”

“Jihoon-hyung?” Seungkwan’s voice is bright, laughter mixed in. “Wow, wasn’t he scared?”

“He looked at me when I left like I’d put him in a cage of tigers,” Seungcheol chuckles.

“Why’d you leave him?” Seungkwan asks.

“He suggested the blanket fort. I felt like he should actually play with her, instead of just me,”

Seungkwan’s laughter is soft. “You’re terrible, hyung,”

“He has to get over his fear of kids someday,”

“You’d better go back, who knows if Jihoon-hyung has passed out from fright because Yoojung is talking a little differently or something,”

Seungcheol lets out breathless laughter and steps back into the apartment to see Yoojung handing Jihoon another pillow to pile onto their couch, on top of a blanket that reaches to one of their kitchen chairs.

He smiles as he leans against the wall. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

They have more dumplings for dinner in the blanket fort. Seungcheol has to sit a little hunched to not bump the blanket hanging above him (because Yoojung says he’ll ruin the fort if he touches it - to which Jihoon smothers laughter at his aghast face). They arrange the blankets so that they can still watch the TV and Yoojung watches Mulan with wide eyes.

They use the same system as at lunch time, and when Seungcheol feeds her pieces, he sometimes has to help her close her mouth because she’s so dazed by the movie. Jihoon tries to hide his laughter every time and helps her drink water in between bites.

After dinner and the movie, Yoojung yawns widely and Seungcheol asks her if she wants to sleep until her dads come. Yoojung just nods sleepily, eyes already drooping. Seungcheol goes to get her blanket from the bag and Jihoon hesitates for a moment before picking her up and putting her on the couch. She curls up, hugging her plush bunny and Seungcheol crawls into the blanket fort to put her blanket over her. Within a couple of minutes, she’s asleep, little body rising and falling with every breath.

Jihoon looks over at Seungcheol, who’s watching her with such a gentle gaze.

“You would be a good dad,” Jihoon says quietly, and he knows it’s true. Seungcheol’s character is the kind to protect people - especially vulnerable people, like kids.

Seungcheol looks at him, slightly surprised. Eventually he manages a small smile. “So would you,” he says quietly.

Jihoon smiles a little sadly and looks at the little girl sleeping in front of him. “Maybe next time we should have a family and test that,” he says softly as he brushes Yoojung’s hair.

_Next time_ Seungcheol echoes in his head numbly. Because this time, he won’t see Jihoon, sleepy and grouchy, but getting out of bed in the middle of the night to go check on their child. He won’t see Jihoon smiling softly with a small human in his lap, tiny hands fisted in his shirt as Jihoon kisses their hair.

_Why didn't we have a family?_ he wonders. He looks over at Jihoon, who's watching Yoojung fondly, not so worried now that she's asleep and he can't mess up too badly when she's not awake.  
_We should have,_ he thinks. _but it’s too late now._

When Seungkwan comes to pick Yoojung up a few hours after dinner, Hansol by his side, Jihoon is asleep, head resting on the couch beside Yoojung. Seungcheol had taken the blanket fort down, lest it fall on top of them. He didn’t want it to wake either of them.

The three of them talk quietly for a moment, because it’s been over a year since they’ve seen each other properly. Soon after though, Hansol goes to pick up their daughter and Seungkwan takes all her things. Yoojung stirs in Hansol’s arms and rubs tiny fists against her eyes. Hansol smiles at her fondly.

“Hey, baby. Did you have a good time with Uncle Seungcheol and Uncle Jihoon?” he asks softly, eyes gentle as he gazes at her sleepy face.

Yoojung nods a little and Seungkwan reaches over to fix one of her pigtails that’s askew.

“Say thanks to Uncle Seungcheol,” Seungkwan says, stroking her cheek and Yoojung peeks at Seungcheol from her position, cheek squished against Hansol’s cheek.

“Thank you, Uncle Sengcheow,” she mumbles, before burying her face into Hansol’s shoulder.

Hansol smiles at her. She wriggles a little, face peeking out again.

“Uncle Jwihoom?” she asks and Seungcheol strokes her cheek.

“Uncle Jihoon is sleeping,” he says. Yoojung lifts her head to look into the living room, where Jihoon can be seen sleeping against the couch.

Yoojung pouts and wriggles until Hansol puts her down. Little feet patter across the wooden floor until she reaches Jihoon, head resting on his arm on the couch.

“Thank you, Uncle Jwihoom,” she says, pressing a gentle, slightly sloppy kiss on Jihoon’s nose.

The three men at the door watch with warm smiles as Yoojung pets his hair twice before turning around and running into Hansol’s waiting arms. He lifts her easily, giving her the plush bunny that she immediately clutches to her chest.

“Thanks, hyung,” Hansol says as he slips on his shoes. Seungkwan picks up Yoojung’s little red shoes.

“We’ll buy you guys dinner some time to make up for it,” Seungwkan says with a warm smile.

Seungcheol waves it off, simply smiling and waving from the door as the family of three disappear down the corridor.

He closes the door with a small sigh and goes back to the living room, where Jihoon is still asleep against the couch. Seungcheol smiles as he crouches beside him, hand running through his hair gently.  
Seungcheol’s eyes follow the line of his jaw, taking in the long lashes that fan onto his cheek, the lines under his eyes from too little sleep and the slightly parted lips that remind Seungcheol of warm summer days.

Slowly, Seungcheol leans forward, hesitates for a moment, and then gently kisses those pink lips.

(Jihoon has marks on his cheek from the couch when he wakes up, but Seungcheol just smiles, runs a thumb over the creases on his skin and leads the sleepy young man to the bedroom. Jihoon immediately curls back up to sleep, and Seungcheol pulls him close, arms wrapping around his waist easily. He runs his hands through Jihoon’s soft hair several times before drifting off.)


	11. eleven

“Okay, today we are going to the beach,” Jihoon says, pointing a spoon accusingly at Seungcheol. “No three year olds.”

Seungcheol just laughs and tells Jihoon to eat his breakfast. Jihoon glares at him, but then Seungcheol asks if he’s going to wait until Seungkwan calls for another favour again, and Jihoon eats quickly. Seungcheol laughs again.

The drive to the beach takes a while, Seoul’s traffic chaotic. Jihoon has to tell Seungcheol to stay calm as someone else cuts in their lane in front of them dangerously. Seungcheol huffs and Jihoon reaches over to rest a hand over his on the gear stick, as the other car speeds off. It’s unconscious, an old habit, but Jihoon determinedly looks forward as he retracts his hand, ignoring Seungcheol glancing over at him.

Halfway, they take a break at a petrol station and Jihoon offers to drive for a while. Seungcheol relents with a sigh and they set off again soon after. Seungcheol falls asleep in the front seat, dreams of bright laughter and shared smiles, and wakes to the sea breeze ruffling his hair.

Jihoon is laughing, his window open as well, wind mussing up his hair. “Wake up, sleepy head, we’re almost there,” he says, and the grin he flashes Seungcheol is bright. Seungcheol mirrors it easily.

They park in the beach side car park, both of them running down the hill to the sand with almost crazed laughter. The few people on the beach stare at them, but Jihoon feels so free like this - sand beneath his feet and the sea breeze messing up his hair.

“Come on, we have to build a fort,” Seungcheol says, grabbing his hand.

“What?” Jihoon laughs, as Seungcheol pulls him down to the sand near the edge of the water line.

“The tide is rising, so we have to build a sand castle and then have defences against the rising tide,” Seungcheol says.

Jihoon scoffs. “That’s pointless though, you can’t win,” he says, but he’s already piling sand up with his hands and Seungcheol grins. Jihoon builds a sand castle and then creates some walls with wet sand in front of it, while Seungcheol makes trenches all around it using his feet.

“Is this wall high enough?” Jihoon asks and Seungcheol looks at it from where he’s crouched, on the other side of the sand castle. He nods and Jihoon takes the affirmation with a serious nod, fixing the rest of the walls to the same height.

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol says after a moment, and the younger looks up at him. “You have sand on your face,” Seungcheol comments, tapping his own cheek to indicate where it is.

He watches Jihoon paw at his face with the back of his hand, but only succeeds in leaving more sand on his cheek.

Seungcheol sighs and brushes the little bit of sand off his own hands. “Here, let me,” and he leans over to gently brush the sand off with his fingers.

Jihoon is staring at him with wide eyes, sand covered hands hovering in between them as Seungcheol brushes off the sand. But Seungcheol is staring at him too, eyes never leaving Jihoon’s. For a moment, no one moves and it seems almost like time has stopped.

Then Jihoon opens his mouth to ask something, probably if he’s done, but he doesn’t get a chance to, Seungcheol leaning the rest of the way to kiss him. The kiss is soft, gentle. Jihoon would have thought it was loving, if they weren’t about to get divorced.

At the thought, Jihoon involuntarily whimpers a little, and Seungcheol pulls away. He takes one look at Jihoon, before he’s leaning in again, kissing him again, and again. Soon the kisses are bruising, Seungcheol’s hands at his face and neck, keeping him from moving away, the two of them just kneeling on the beach, kissing with a deformed sand castle between them.

Jihoon doesn’t know how much time passes as Seungcheol leaves him breathless with bruising kisses, but then there’s water crashing against their legs and they pull apart in surprise. They scramble to their feet, turning to look at each other, similarly lost and bewildered.

Then Seungcheol screams. “The sand castle!”

For their morning effort has been washed away in a single wave. Jihoon gapes.

“Our sandcastle!” he cries and Seungcheol hurriedly crouches down to build the walls again.

Jihoon pushes him into the oncoming wave. Seungcheol stumbles into the shallow waters, but catches himself before he falls, turning back to stare at Jihoon.

“This is your fault!” Jihoon cries when Seungcheol stares at him, horror across his features. “You and your - your - ”

He can’t finish, face too warm from the memory of the burning kisses. Seungcheol’s shocked face changes to that of a smirk.

“Oh, my fault, really?” he says as he takes a step forward, and Jihoon feels fear grip him. He takes a step back. “I’m not so sure about that, Jihoonie.”

And Jihoon lets out a yell as Seungcheol bolts towards him. He makes it a good few steps before Seungcheol grabs him around the waist, hauls him kicking and screaming towards the water, and then tosses him into the ocean like a doll.

Now Jihoon is totally drenched, sitting in the shallow water with sea water dripping from his hair. His expression changes from startled to thunderous.

“How is this my fault?!” Jihoon yells, getting up to run at Seungcheol. The older doesn’t even bother running away, just laughs as Jihoon drags him into the water with him, until Seungcheol is similarly drenched. They stay there, splashing each other in knee deep water as Jihoon tries to get petty revenge.

Eventually Seungcheol steps close enough to grab Jihoon around the waist, pulling him close so that he can’t splash him with his hands, or kick him either.

“Your fault, for being so cute,” Seungcheol murmurs softly, kissing him gently.

“I’m cold,” Jihoon mumbles, looking away. Seungcheol laughs brightly before ushering both of them back to the car. He bundles Jihoon in a giant fluffy towel and dries his hair with the other towel before putting it around himself.

“If I get sick, you’d better look after me,” Jihoon mumbles, shivering in his towel.

“If I get sick, I’ll make you sick with me,” Seungcheol grins, kissing him quickly. Jihoon scowls and moves to dry his hair, faltering before he reaches up to dry Seungcheol’s hair too. Seungcheol watches him, gaze warm.

“Let’s go home,” Jihoon says, eyes avoiding the way Seungcheol is looking at him. “We have to go to Jisoo and Jeonghan’s house warming tonight.”

Seungcheol lets out a puppy whine. “Do we have to?”

“Yes,” Jihoon says simply. When Seungcheol pouts and tries to make up silly reasons to stay in, Jihoon just kisses him quickly. Seungcheol beams at that - because Jihoon finally kissed him first. Jihoon laughs at how easily he’s distracted. “It’ll be fun. Everyone will be there,” he says, pushing Seungcheol’s wet hair away from his face

Seungcheol asks for another kiss (to which Jihoon obliges with a grumble they both know he doesn’t mean) and they get back in the car to set off home.

Jisoo and Jeonghan’s housewarming for their new house in the suburbs isn’t very big, mostly just their group of high school and college friends. At least, those who can make it - Mingyu and Wonwoo are noticeably missing, and they’re told Chan is in Vietnam on tour at the moment.

But still, it’s nice to see most of them. Jihoon smiles as he sees Junhui, who he caught a glimpse of at the dinner function a week ago, but hasn’t seen in nearly two years. Minghao is there too - he had mostly been in China the past few years, so it’s been a while. He sees Seokmin and Soonyoung, who are still sharing inside jokes that no one else understands.

Seeing everyone again, it’s like they’re back in high school - being too loud and doing things they shouldn’t do.

But there are little things that have changed: no more hair dye, jobs with long hours and wedding bands on fingers; Seungkwan and Hansol are carrying a three year old who Jeonghan won’t stop fussing over. Yoojung refuses to be called his baby, consistently answering that she’s her Dads’ baby, and Jeonghan looks so heartbroken, Seungkwan quietly suggests trying to convince her with dumplings. It warms her up to him - enough to be carried around for most of the evening - but doesn’t convince her to say she’s his baby, much to everyone’s amusement.

“So how have you guys been?” Soonyoung asks, halfway through the night, slinging an arm around Jihoon. He still likes to invade people’s personal space, it seems. Jihoon smiles and feels Seungcheol’s hand at the small of his back press against his jacket.

When they were first going out, Seungcheol was always cautious around Soonyoung, because of the other boy’s overly touchy habits. He knew Soonyoung was aware of their relationship and wouldn’t try anything, but it didn’t stop him being a little more possessive.

Jihoon called him out on his jealousy numerous times, but usually just found it amusing, while Seunngcheol would always just scowl and hold Jihoon tighter.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Jihoon agrees with a hum, as Seungcheol moves his hand to Jihoon’s waist, subconsciously pulling him closer. “Did you ever come see the new place? I mean, it’s not new now, it’s been a couple of years already, but I haven’t seen you since before you went to Japan,”

“No, I haven’t!” Soonyoung gasps dramatically and Jihoon laughs easily. It feels like the early years of college again. “Can I come over?”

“Yeah, sure. Well, you’ll have to ask Seungcheol, actually,” Jihoon gestures to the other male who’s now engaged in a conversation with Junhui, though he hasn’t moved from Jihoon’s side. He doesn’t even turn at Jihoon’s gesture.

“Why? It’s your place too, Jihoon,” Soonyoung frowns.

“Well, unless it’s in the next ten days, it won’t be,” Jihoon says, short laugh bubbling from his chest.

“What are you talking about?” Soonyoung says.

“Oh, we’re getting divorced. Seungcheol is getting the apartment,” Jihoon says casually, like he’s just mentioning the weather, or talking about an idle thing that happened at work. He takes a sip of his beer calmly.

Soonyoung is so stunned, he actually drops his bottle of beer and it shatters to the ground at their feet. Everyone turns to stare, and time seems to stand still for a moment. Then Seungcheol moves, pushing them both away from the glass as he tries to pick it up. Jihoon moves to help, but Seungcheol keeps him away, insisting he’ll get hurt.

“You’re joking,” Soonyoung says and Jihoon stares at him blankly, totally unphased. Seungcheol disappears with the shards and goes to get a broom, Junhui trailing after him.

“No, I’m not. We’re getting divorced. I’m signing the papers in ten days, Seungcheol’s already signed it. A court hearing will be set if there’s any issues in the lodging of it,” Jihoon answers, taking another sip of his beer. He looks at Soonyoung calmly, like he hasn’t just revealed that he and Seungcheol are getting divorced.

Soonyoung gapes at him, because it doesn’t process. Jihoon and Seungcheol had always been _the_ pillars of their friendship group, because of how close they were. They were the ones who would always go back to each other, no matter what happened. Even today, they had turned up together, in matching jackets (even though Jihoon said it was an accident), and always seemed to be by each other’s side.

Soonyoung isn’t blind either - he sees Seungcheol’s hand at Jihoon’s back, at his waist, keeping him close, like the possessive Seungcheol from high school and college is back. He sees Seungcheol kiss Jihoon in reassurance when Jihoon tells him not to drink too much, sees Jihoon sigh and roll his eyes, but wear that affectionate smile when he takes the keys from Seungcheol. He sees when Seungcheol flops down on the couch next to Jihoon after too many bottles of beer, clinging onto him like he’s a koala and Jihoon a tree, before Jihoon declares it time to go home and drags him to his feet.

Soonyoung just can’t believe they’re getting divorced.

But when he brings it up, after Seungcheol and Jihoon leave, Jeonghan and Jisoo grimly confirm it’s true. Seungkwan, especially, is flabbergasted, claiming that Jihoon and Seungcheol had just looked after Yoojung yesterday, and everything had seemed normal. The little girl is asleep in Hansol’s arms, and he nods in confirmation.

The rest of the evening is sombre, as everyone tries to process the shift in their group dynamic that’s about to happen.

Seungcheol can’t put on his seatbelt. The world is spinning and the buckle just… keeps moving. He hears Jihoon sigh and feels warm hands take the seatbelt from his hands and strap him in. He feels a grin slide onto his face.

“Thanks, Jihoonie,” he says. He hears Jihoon sigh, feels him pat his thigh, and then the car glides into motion.

Jihoon helps him into the elevator for their apartment, holding onto him tightly so he doesn’t fall over. He tries to prop him against the wall while he fumbles for the keys, but Seungcheol just slides to one side and Jihoon nearly trips over trying to catch him.

Seungcheol almost forgot what it was like, to be this drunk, to have Jihoon looking after him. He feels the younger take his arm and pull him inside, help him take off his shoes and get him into clothes to sleep. Seungcheol almost forgot that he always looks for Jihoon when he’s drunk, and how he clings onto the smaller boy.

But as he reaches out for Jihoon in the big bed, the other laughing as he holds Seungcheol to his chest, he remembers. He remembers the fire that ignites under his skin whenever he holds Jihoon, the same kind that burns in his chest as he presses kisses to Jihoon’s forehead, cheeks, nose, lips.

Jihoon is laughing softly and telling him to go to sleep, calling him an idiot, and Seungcheol grins. “No, don’t want to sleep,” he hears himself saying, “Want you,”

He hears Jihoon suck in a breath, but he doesn’t process it. He closes his eyes again, it takes too much effort to keep them open. “I want you, Jihoon,” he tries to say with as much seriousness as he can, but he feels himself slipping into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, Jihoon just runs his hand through Seungcheol’s hair, brain whirring with too many thoughts. _He’s drunk_ he tells himself, _he doesn’t mean that…. right?_


	12. twelve

Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol wakes up with the biggest headache since that college cruise party where he lost count of his drinks an hour in. Jihoon, as expected, just laughs at him and gets him aspirin and water.

Afterwards, Seungcheol pulls him back to bed, hugging him to his chest as he complains about his headache. Jihoon rolls his eyes, laughs, and asks if he wants to watch a movie. Jihoon gets his laptop and they choose a movie, Seungcheol leaning on Jihoon’s shoulder as the other sets it going.

By the time the end credits are rolling, the two of them are asleep again, the laptop pushed to the side. Seungcheol’s arm is over Jihoon’s stomach, his face pressed into Jihoon’s shoulder.

They wake up to the sun setting outside their window, filling the room in orange glow. Jihoon asks Seungcheol if he’s hungry and Seungcheol hums, kissing him gently in answer. Gentle kisses become deeper, both of them becoming a little breathless, until Jihoon complains that Seungcheol smells gross, and he needs to shower and brush his teeth.

Seungcheol agrees only after Jihoon sends him off with another kiss (and a roll of his eyes). As he hears the shower going, Jihoon pulls out the vacuum cleaner and starts vacuuming the living room, humming to himself as he cleans.

He’s startled when he’s halfway cleaning the kitchen, Seungcheol’s arms wrapping around his waist as he breathes against his neck that it’s his turn to shower. Jihoon feels the blush creep up his neck, but he hides it with a scowl as he stalks off. Seungcheol just laughs, finishes the vacuuming and then sets up another movie to watch in the living room.

When Jihoon moves to sit on the couch after his shower, hands holding two plates of food, Seungcheol’s hands reach for his hips to pull him onto his lap, holding him tightly. Jihoon’s ears are a little red as Seungcheol beams with his nose pressed into the back of Jihoon’s shoulder.

“How are we going to eat?” Jihoon grumbles.

“Share one, then share the other,” Seungcheol answers, because that’s how they used to do it - when Seungcheol would pull Jihoon onto his lap to watch movies. Somehow, he found it the most comforting way to sit with Jihoon, like Jihoon’s weight in his lap reassured him. Jihoon never really understood, always asking how it was comfortable and if he was too heavy.

They settle down like that, Jihoon feeding Seungcheol over his shoulder as they watch the movie. When they finish eating, Jihoon relaxes into Seungcheol’s embrace, leaning back to comment on the movie. Whenever Jihoon pauses, waiting for Seungcheol’s reply, the older will often peck his lips before answering in a whisper, making Jihoon flush again.

They fall asleep with Seungcheol’s arms around Jihoon, the younger’s face buried in Seungcheol’s shoulder, tucked under his chin.

Seungcheol rouses to sunlight streaming through the gaps of their curtains

“Time to get up,” Seungcheol breathes against Jihoon’s neck, nuzzling his nose against smooth skin. Jihoon groans and nudges him with his elbow a little. Seungcheol laughs sleepily before sitting up and pulling Jihoon up with him. Jihoon yawns and rubs at his eyes, head rolling forward like he’s going to fall asleep again.

Seungcheol smiles to himself and grabs him around the waist, dragging him off the bed. Jihoon remains limp in his arms, like a doll, whining a little. Eventually, he sighs, rubs his eyes again and finally stands on his own.

“You have to brush your teeth, Ji,” he murmurs as Jihoon walks around aimlessly, like a lost child. It’s almost endearing, the slightly too big t-shirt and loose shorts make him look even smaller. Seungcheol has always preferred tank tops and sweatpants to sleep.

Jihoon stares at him blankly, mind still struggling to process anything. Seungcheol smiles and takes his hand to lead him to the bathroom. Before these thirty days, they hadn’t brushed their teeth together since they were newlyweds; before Jihoon got a job as an assistant producer and Seungcheol was promoted to local manager. Before they stopped sharing mornings, and before they stopped talking about how they spent their days. Before they drifted apart.

Jihoon spits and rinses first and is about to leave when he turns to look at Seungcheol, a frown marring his face. Seungcheol spits and rinses before asking what’s wrong.

“When did you last shave?” Jihoon asks, “Like properly shave?”

Seungcheol shrugs and Jihoon sighs, already reaching for the shaving cream and razor blade. “C’mon, you always miss spots,” he says as he smears the cream on Seungcheol’s face, despite his closed mouthed protests. Jihoon just laughs soundlessly and Seungcheol can feel his dormant heart shudder in his chest. Jihoon was always so beautiful like this - in the early morning, sleep still clinging to his eyes, voice still hoarse from misuse.

Seungcheol grabs his wrist to stop him, before he puts his hands around Jihoon’s waist and hauls him onto the bathroom counter, making sure he misses their toothbrushes by the sink. It’s too tiring to crouch the whole time and Jihoon is too short to peer down at him. (Jihoon, of course, protests, because he’s not _that_ little, but Seungcheol just points out that it’s easier for both of them. Jihoon grumbles, but lets it go.)

Seungcheol puts his hands on the counter, on either side of Jihoon’s legs, which are around his waist, knees pressing against his hip. It grounds him, but it also makes him light-headed.

Jihoon is holding his face firmly but gently and the razor blade is gliding against his skin, and Seungcheol remembers how he and Jihoon used to steal kisses all the time - in between classes, in the middle of meals, first thing in the morning, last thing at night - like there were never enough kisses. In the last several days, Seungcheol has felt like that again, like kissing Jihoon is an addiction that he never wants to get over.

After he finishes, Jihoon cleans his face with a wet cloth before inspecting his face again. He barely manages to announce he's done before Seungcheol is leaning in and kissing him. Jihoon gasps against his mouth and Seungcheol feels his stomach flip. The wet cloth is abandoned in the sink as Jihoon pulls him closer, pulls them closer together. They share the taste of their mint toothpaste, and Seungcheol breathes between kisses like he's a drowning man.

He had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss Jihoon like this. He almost forgot how addictive it was, how it made his blood rush through his veins, made his chest feel like he couldn't breathe, but it wasn't oxygen he needed, just more of Jihoon. He can’t believe he almost forgot what it was like to to feel all these things.

The bathroom counter is digging into his stomach as he tries to press closer. Jihoon’s hands is running through his hair, tugging when Seungcheol bites down on his bottom lip, both of them pulling away with gasps and desperately needed breaths.

“Seungcheol, we - ” Jihoon begins, but seems to forget what he was going to say as Seungcheol kisses Jihoon’s pale neck. Jihoon lets out a content sigh.

“We have to go soon,” Jihoon murmurs, hands still running through Seungcheol’s hair. He sounds distracted though, and Seungcheol wants to keep it that way - wants to keep kissing him senseless in their bathroom, still in their pyjamas, Jihoon breathing raggedly as Seungcheol’s hands slip under his t-shirt.

“Seungcheol,” Jihoon says, and this time his hands are on his face, pulling him up. Jihoon grins and kisses him, mouth fitting with his in ways that makes Seungcheol dizzy. “Come on, we can do this later,” Jihoon whispers, gently pushing his hands away, distracting him with another quick kiss.

Seungcheol whines as Jihoon pushes him away to clamber off the bathroom counter. Jihoon darts of the bathroom with bright laughter and Seungcheol follows him back to their bedroom. Jihoon is trying to pull out clothes for the day - jeans and a shirt - but Seungcheol just grabs his waist and turns him around to kiss him again.

Jihoon kisses back before pushing him away, laughing. His eyes are crinkled and the sound is like tinkling bells, and Seungcheol falters for a moment just to hear it.

“Stop it, idiot, we have something to do,” Jihoon says, shoving clothes into Seungcheol’s arms.

Seungcheol watches as Jihoon sheds his t-shirt and grabs his shirt. He’s halfway buttoning it when he notices Seungcheol is staring and Seungcheol can see the way his face goes pink.

“What? Why are you watching me?”

“Can’t I?” Seungcheol grins cheekily.

Jihoon scowls. “It’s weird. Stop it. Get changed, idiot,”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” Seungcheol smirks, but obediently begins to get changed. He doesn’t miss Jihoon choking at his reply though.

He steals kisses in the kitchen, pressing Jihoon against the fridge, until Jihoon murmurs that he’s really hungry and they should eat breakfast. Seungcheol replies that he’s hungry for him, and Jihoon goes bright red and pushes him away.

He steals more kisses in the corridor to the front door, pulling Jihoon onto his lap with one shoe on and the other lying abandoned until Jihoon pulls away, face flushed, after Seungcheol’s hands try to pull his shirt out of his jeans.

“Where are we going?” Seungcheol asks, as Jihoon takes his hand and leads him to the car. Jihoon only answers with a secretive smile, but Seungcheol finds he doesn’t even mind - as long as he’s with Jihoon, he’ll go anywhere.

“Seungcheol, what - ”

The scream that comes from beside him is much higher pitch to usual. Jihoon waits until Seungcheol’s voice tentatively asks, “Jihoon…?”

He sighs. “Who else would it be? We haven’t left the car,” he drawls.

“It’s so dark!” Seungcheol protests, “I don’t know what’s out here, or - ”

“You chose to come here yourself. I don’t even know where we are,” Jihoon mutters.

He can’t see it, but he knows Seungcheol is grinning. “Because there’s something to see out here,” he says.

“It’s pitch black, Seungcheol, we can’t even see each other.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

Seungcheol chuckles and the car lights turn on as Seungcheol opens the door. Jihoon squints in the sudden brightness. “Just come outside, Jihoon.”

“If you’re going to do something stupid like try to scare me….” Jihoon warns in a low voice as he clambers out.

He just hears Seungcheol’s laughter as he closes the door and is once more plunged in darkness.

“Over here,” Seungcheol calls and Jihoon feels along the edge of the car to sit on the bonnet beside Seungcheol. Seungcheol laces their hands together, warm hand enveloping his.

“What are we seeing?” Jihoon asks. He can see the twinkling lights of the city somewhere below and to the side, but it’s mostly covered by the trees. Ahead there’s only darkness. They’re at the top of some hill outside the city, but Jihoon had fallen asleep part of the way and woken up to darkness, so he’s lost as to where they are exactly.

Seungcheol’s fingers are warm as they press against his jaw. “Look up,” he whispers, voice much closer than before, as he guides Jihoon to look above them. And that’s when Jihoon realises why they’re here.

Stars.

All around them.

Like someone put a star dotted wallpaper on the roof above them, little glittering sparkles in the sky. Jihoon can see the Milky Way, and constellations; he can see the Northern Star, and Seungcheol points out planets according to the star map on his phone.

“I didn’t know you were into star gazing,” Jihoon murmurs as they lie on the bonnet of the car.

Seungcheol laughs softly beside him. “I’m not,” he says, “but I thought about what I’ve been wanting to do for a while, and star gazing is one of them. A colleague suggested it a long time ago.”

“What else did you want to do?” Jihoon asks quietly.

“Sleep was high on the list,” Seungcheol says immediately, and they share soft laughter. Silence swirls around them in the aftermath. “Talk to you too,” he adds quietly after a moment, “it was pretty high up there.”

Jihoon chooses his next words carefully. “I thought you were too busy to even think about that,” _the way I thought I was_ , he adds in his head.

“I thought so too,” Seungcheol murmurs, “but there were times I’d see you and couldn’t remember what we last talked about. It made me sad,”

Jihoon stares at the glittering stars above him. “Me too,” he replies.

He hears Seungcheol turn to look at him. Jihoon doesn’t mirror him, keeps looking at the tiny specks of light above. “I’m glad we’re talking again,” he says.

“Me too,” Jihoon answers, almost on reflex. He doesn’t know what else to say. He’s glad they’re talking again, sharing stories and laughter like they used to - but he knows it’s only because Seungcheol had presented Jihoon with the files for divorce, and Jihoon had asked for thirty days to cling onto when it was all over.

 _How many days left?_ Jihoon wonders, but he doesn’t want to calculate, doesn’t want to think of the draining time. He knows there isn’t much left.

Seungcheol shifts to look at the stars again, and this time Jihoon turns to look at him. He can only make out the silhouette of his face; he can’t see the way his eyes shine or the quirk of his lips, but Jihoon has already memorised those parts.

Jihoon looks back at the stars, and he’s reminded how each of those is a sun, how each of those are their own solar system - they exist in entirely different galaxies.

 _The universe is so vast,_ he thinks, _full of galaxies and solar systems, and even the world is so large, full of so many people, and yet... I was lucky enough to exist next to you._

He turns to look at Seungcheol, tries to make out his face in the darkness. _The universe is so old, time is such a long stretched thing that our whole life is but a mere blip in the timeline, and yet I got to exist in the same bit of time as you._

Jihoon smiles to himself and looks back at the stars. Seungcheol’s hand is warm in his.

_I’m so lucky to be here, right now, next to you._

He closes his eyes.

_Too bad I can’t stay._


	13. thirteen

“Ah!”

Jihoon jumps from where he’s getting jam from the fridge to turn to Seungcheol. They had been lazing on the couch in front of the television, watching news over breakfast, before they put on a movie - their routine the last few days.

“What?” Jihoon asks, coming back to the couch with the jam, putting it on the table as he settles back onto the couch. But instead of smothering his pastries in jam, Seungcheol points to the screen.

“It’s the fifteenth! Our electricity bill is due today,” he says and he stumbles away from the coffee table to rummage through their mail on the kitchen table.

Jihoon, meanwhile, is frozen in place as he stares at the date in the corner of the television screen, as the news presenter talks about the latest on a criminal trial. It’s the fifteenth. They have three days left of their thirty days together, and then it’s all over.

“Okay, I’ve transferred the amount over,” Seungcheol says, with a sigh of relief as he flops back onto the couch, throwing Jihoon a playful grin.

Jihoon barely manages a smile back, and Seungcheol notices.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, sitting up and reaching for him. Jihoon turns away, avoiding his touch as he grabs another pastry.

“No, just thinking. Why don’t we go out today? There’s somewhere I want to go,” Jihoon says.

Seungcheol pouts. “Where? I really wanted to watch the Star Wars series today,” he says.

Jihoon laughs softly. “We watched it yesterday,” he says.

“Not really,” Seungcheol grins, winking, and Jihoon’s face heats up, remembering desperate kisses and big, warm hands in his hair.

“W-Well, we can watch it later,” Jihoon says, “let’s go out after breakfast, okay?”

And when Seungcheol hesitates, puffing out his cheeks, Jihoon just has to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before Seungcheol is agreeing to anything, so long as he gets more kisses. Jihoon obliges with a smile.

Jihoon taps out the beat against the steering wheel as he drives. Seungcheol is listening to the radio intently, because it’s playing Jihoon’s latest track, by one of the top girl groups in the industry, recently releasing their third full album. The song Jihoon was working on two weeks ago has been bought by an agency, but isn’t released yet.

“You ever thought of doing more freelance, rather than working under this company?” Seungcheol asks suddenly. Jihoon looks over at him in surprise.

“It’s more stable with a company. They’re more likely to take my tracks if I keep the contract with them,” Jihoon says.

“You’ve already made a name for yourself though,” Seungcheol says. “You’d be able to go on your own. A lot of the artists you work with would probably follow you too.”

Jihoon hums. “Maybe,”

“When does your contract finish?” Seungcheol asks.

“In a month,” Jihoon answers.

“You should consider it,” Seungcheol says, “you’d be able to organize your hours the way you wanted; be home more.”

_For what?_ Jihoon thinks, smiling sadly out the window. _We’ll be divorced by then. It’s not like you’ll notice if I’m home more._

He knows Seungcheol is watching him, but he doesn’t say more. Seungcheol squeezes his hand resting over the gear stick, and Jihoon feels his chest tighten in response.

“Uhhhh, Jihoon?” Seungcheol looks at the other, like they’ve made a mistake.

Jihoon just grins at Seungcheol as he pushes the door open. “Ready to regain your rapping skills?” he asks, tugging them both inside the karaoke place.

It’s the middle of the day on a Thursday, so it’s relatively easy to get a room. Jihoon is still beaming as he pulls them inside the small space with dancing lights.

“Jihoon… I’m not sure….” Seungcheol hesitates and Jihoon sighs and hands him the remote.

“It’s karaoke. We did it almost every birthday all through high school and college, which, in our group, was basically every month. Now relax, will you?”

Seungcheol purses his lips, clearly put out. Jihoon knows it’s because he’d much rather be home and making out on the couch, like they’ve been doing the past few days; but they’re running out of time. As enticing as making out on the couch sounds, Jihoon plans to use each and every moment of their last days fully.

Seungcheol is still pouting, but once the all too familiar melodies of their favourite tracks start, the hesitation is gone, and Seungcheol is singing into his microphone like it’s sing or die. Jihoon is laughing because of the funny faces he makes to reach the high notes, but he’s hitting them, and Jihoon tries not to show how proud he is that Seungcheol still remembers the vocal techniques he taught him, long ago.

Seungcheol also remembers his rapping flow, getting really into the Dynamic Duo and Verbal Jint songs while Jihoon harmonizes. He stumbles over some of the lyrics and loses the rhythm a couple of times, but he picks it up again quickly and becomes more and more focused as time goes on.

After an intense song, Seungcheol flops onto the couch at the back, limbs splayed apart. Jihoon just laughs.

“Done already? It’s only been like ten songs,” he says and Seungcheol looks at him blearily.

“ _Only_ ten songs,” he echoes, voice hollow.

“Alright, I’ll sing then,” Jihoon says, humming as he chooses the next song. Seungcheol settles down on the couch with a smile, anticipating.

Seungcheol hears the opening bars of Park Bom’s _You and I_ and he immediately sits up straight. He knows this song very well - at their wedding, instead of giving a speech, Jihoon sang a song - this song.

_You, even when I fall, you help me up without shaking one bit_

Jihoon remembers too. He had sung from a stool in front of a microphone, guitar in hand and eyes never leaving Seungcheol’s amongst all the others, desperately hoping his voice didn’t shake.

_And you, during those hard times and until the end, you hold both of my hands and stay with me_

That night, he had just focused on Seungcheol, and tried to find comfort in the familiarity in the smile of his best friend, the person he thought at the time was his soulmate.

_I might be a shabby person who has never done anything for you_

Part of Jihoon still thinks Seungcheol is his soulmate. They’re not perfect, but they’ve seen each other through so much, Jihoon doesn’t think there’s anyone else who else could have stayed with him for so long, still love him despite all the mistakes, and flaws, and imperfections.

_But for today, I am singing this song just for you_

Jihoon doesn’t turn around, keeps facing the screen, reading the lyrics that he knows from memory. The lyrics he spent hours and hours singing, practicing, storing in the depths of his heart.

_You and I together, it just feels alright  
_

_I will never leave you and no matter what anybody says, I’ll be there to protect you_

When they exchanged vows, Jihoon had looked into twinkling eyes and swore to himself that he would never stop loving Seungcheol, he would never leave him. He had promised to himself that he protect him from the world, hold him through every difficulty, and never let his heart be swayed by anyone but Seungcheol.

Jihoon’s heart aches that he’s kept those promises, but not in the right way. He still loves Seungcheol, but it’s a different love, one that matured and changed as they grew up. He has stayed with Seungcheol, but the effect of which has caused them both hurt. He protected Seungcheol from the world, but he didn’t protect Seungcheol from himself.

And he only ever let his heart belong to Seungcheol, swaying exactly like he promised - to Seungcheol, and no one else. To Seungcheol, who kisses him and tastes like honey, who holds him like a warm blanket, and who has a signature on a dotted line on a paper titled _Application for Divorce_ in their lounge room.

He’ll sway to no one but Seungcheol, and if Seungcheol wants a divorce, then he’ll accept it.

_You and I together, don’t ever let go my hands  
_

_I’ll never say goodbye to you, even when this world ends_

Jihoon tries to keep his voice steady, in contrast to his heart that’s drowning in unspoken words, in affection that he will never be able to finish giving, even if they had a lifetime left, instead of three days.

_I promise you that I’ll be right here baby_

Jihoon turns to face Seungcheol instead of the screen as he sings the last words. Their eyes meet easily and Jihoon is almost cradling the microphone as he sings the ending notes.

Seungcheol is watching as Jihoon moves to stand in front of him. He’s leaning forward, as if he wants to get up and hold Jihoon. But he doesn’t move, just stays on the couch, waiting, eyes never leaving Jihoon’s.

The song ends and neither of them move, gazes locked on each other. Jihoon’s breathing is a little ragged from the singing.

Then Jihoon steps into the space between Seungcheol’s legs and leans over until their lips meet in the dancing lights of the room.

Seungcheol’s hands move to his waist, pulling him closer and guiding him to straddle his lap; keep their bodies close as their mouths move together.

_Stop,_ Jihoon’s mind whispers, as he kisses Seungcheol, as Seungcheol kisses him back. _Stop. It’ll hurt too much_

And Jihoon knows his brain is right - these are the kind of memories that will sting, and burn, and make him cry, when they’re divorced and he can only keep remembering bittersweet memories of a love he never felt he deserved.

He keeps kissing Seungcheol though, even as the tears begin to squeeze out between his closed eyes, clinging to his lashes before falling to his cheek.

Because even though his mind is telling him not to continue, his heart in his chest is singing at the way Seungcheol responds, the way Seungcheol holds him, keeps him close like all those other times he felt like Seungcheol loved him.

Jihoon doesn’t want to think it’s possible anymore, for Seungcheol to love him, because it’s the only barrier that is keeping him from breaking down over the looming divorce. He doesn’t want to think that all these kisses and gestures of affection are anything more than to help him remember their time together fondly, like it’s a trip down memory lane, not a restart on their time together. Because it’s not. That's not what the thirty days were for, and Jihoon knows that's not what Seungcheol agreed to when he accepted Jihoon’s condition of thirty days.

Seungcheol looks worried when Jihoon has to pull away because he can’t breathe - his nose is clogged up and the tears are falling so quickly now. He hiccups and presses his face into the crook of Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Jihoon?” He sounds so worried. Of course he does. Because Jihoon rarely cries, and yet it hasn’t been thirty days yet and Jihoon has already cried twice. They say things hurt because they matter to you, and the marriage, and the lingering divorce, mean everything to Jihoon.

Seungcheol asks what’s wrong and Jihoon’s heart is breaking at how much he’s going to miss this - at how much he has deluded himself into thinking Seungcheol cares as much as he used to.

“Just,” a hiccup, “give me a moment,” he gasps out. He doesn’t lift his face from Seungcheol’s shoulder, can’t bear to let Seungcheol see this side of him, even though Seungcheol has seen every side of him - and every piece inside as well.

He wants Seungcheol to remember him fondly - wants Seungcheol to remember his smiles and his laughter, his witty jokes and the way they complemented each other; not his tears, or his grumpiness, or how they often fought over the littlest things.

Seungcheol just wraps his arms around his waist and holds him close, like he’s comforting a small child in his arms. Jihoon clings onto him tighter, arm around Seungcheol’s neck holding him close.  
Seungcheol’s nose is against the skin of his neck and he’s whispering soft comforting words, promises of making everything okay, of taking care of him, of protecting him. It only makes it hurt more.  
Because Jihoon wants it - wants Seungcheol to love him the way he still loves Seungcheol, wants to spend forever with him, like they promised so long ago, with bright smiles and simple gold bands. But he knows it’s too late, that it can’t happen anymore.

_You had your time with him,_ his heart seems to whisper, _it’s time to let him be free from you now_.

And it hurts, it hurts so damn much, but Jihoon is going to accept it. He has to.

He pulls his face out Seungcheol’s neck, wipes his tear stained face and laughs shakily. He will let Seungcheol go. Let Seungcheol be free from the Jihoon who has only ever held him back and hurt him. That's what Seungcheol wanted too, for them to be free of each other.

“Sorry, I was just thinking of sad memories,” Jihoon says lamely. He knows Seungcheol doesn’t believe it, but he doesn’t ask. He’s always trusted Jihoon to tell him the truth when he’s ready. They both know that won’t happen this time, won’t happen anymore.

“Don’t,” Seungcheol whispers, warm hands holding his face gently, “don’t think at all.”

And when he kisses Jihoon again, it’s so easy to obey, to not think about all the things that will be ending, all the things that will change. It’s so easy to not think at all, and keep pretending everything is fine.

That night, Jihoon clings onto Seungcheol like a broken child, and Seungcheol just holds him tightly and breathes promises Jihoon doesn’t believe in.


	14. fourteen

When Jihoon rouses, he’s determined to act as if he can just press a reset button on the previous day, and go back to the blissful days before. They’ve been doing it for nearly thirty days now, why not keep the delusion of being a happy couple for a couple more days?

So he wakes Seungcheol up by tickling him.

Seungcheol grumbles, rolls over, squirms and then opens his eyes, glaring at Jihoon blearily. The younger just laughs. Seungcheol responds by wrapping his arms around Jihoon and rolling on top of him to sandwich him between him and the bed, squashing him.

Jihoon whines out protests and Seungcheol smirks, settling down on top of Jihoon, totally content. “Back to sleep,” he hums and Jihoon can’t even move his arms to push him off or wriggle away.

“Seungcheooool,” he whines. “You’re heavy, get off!”

“Need payment,” Seungcheol whispers, eyes twinkling with mischief. He wants kisses. Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“No.”

“Then, I’m going back to sleep,” Seungcheol says breezily, resting his head on Jihoon’s.

Jihoon whines and futilely kicks his legs. Seungcheol laughs.

“One more chance to give payment,” he sing-songs. Jihoon sulks beneath him, lips jutted out in a pout.

Seungcheol is about to give up again when Jihoon’s head darts up to kiss his cheek quickly.

“Now get off me before you break a bone or something,” he mutters.

Seungcheol rolls off him, giggling in glee. “That wasn’t enough, but you’re so cute, I’ll let it pass,” he coos, arms still wrapped around him, cuddling him to his chest.

“What am I? Your human sized teddy bear?” Jihoon grumbles, but he doesn’t move away, letting Seungcheol hug him to his chest.

“Yes,” Seungcheol answers, kissing his cheek.

Jihoon squirms, sighing. “Okay, get off now, leech,”

Seungcheol huffs. “No,”

“We have to go,”

“Where?” Seungcheol lets out a whine.

Jihoon just rolls over in his arms and kisses him deeply. “Let’s go,” he murmurs as he pulls away. Seungcheol is so dazed, Jihoon manages to wriggle out of his embrace _and_ yank the blankets off.

Seungcheol whines, Jihoon laughs, and they leave the apartment soon after.

Seungcheol makes a strange face when he stands outside the ice-skating rink and Jihoon duobles over in laughter. Seungcheol is gripping his hand tightly, so he doesn’t face plant onto the concrete.

“What does that expression even _mean_?” Jihoon gasps between helpless giggles.

“It means,” Seungcheol says, face still scrunched up, “that I remember the last time we went ice-skating, Seokmin twisted his ankle trying to spin when he could barely let go of the edge, and Hansol crashed into Mingyu and the two of them got blood noses, and I’m not entirely sure I want to remember that or try again.”

Jihoon barks out short laughter. “That’s because they were being idiots, or being pushed around by idiots, now come on, it’ll be fine,” he says, grinning brightly.

Seungcheol just grins back and lets himself be dragged inside by an excited Jihoon.

They go rent their skates, Seungcheol hovering behind Jihoon constantly as the younger tells the employee their shoe sizes.

Seungcheol sneaks a kiss when the employee turns around, and smiles when he pulls away and finds Jihoon with his eyes still closed. He almost leans in to kiss him again, but Jihoon opens his eyes, a dusting of pink on his cheeks, and swats at Seungcheol’s shoulder, determinedly turning away - to the employee who is returning with their skates.

Jihoon fumbles with the laces and Seungcheol crouches in front of him to help him tie them properly. Jihoon mumbles protests, but they’re not very loud, knowing Seungcheol isn’t listening to them. Seungcheol beams brightly at Jihoon when he’s done and Jihoon grabs his face to kiss him quickly, face red.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, getting to his feet, wobbling a little in the skates.

Seungcheol is basically exuding happiness as he grabs Jihoon’s arm to steady him. He leans in, as if to kiss him again, but stops halfway, and Jihoon stares at him with wide eyes.

“The skates make you taller,” Seungcheol states dumbly. Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“Obviously,” he mutters and Seungcheol grins, eyes crinkling as he pats the top of Jihoon’s head.

“Still shorter than me though,” he coos. Jihoon bristles with anger.

“Choi Seungcheol, I am wearing skates. They have blades underneath. Don’t make me step on your foot,”

Seungcheol just laughs and steps back to put his own skates on, Jihoon crouching in front of him, trying to help. He ends up only tangling the laces together though, and Seungcheol laughs softly, kisses his cheek, and tells him it’s fine.

Jihoon waits by the entrance to the rink, where several people are skating circles on the ice, a few in the centre. Seungcheol slips his hand into Jihoon’s as he comes to stand beside him, and offers him a soft smile.

“Ready?” he asks. Jihoon just smiles and steps onto the rink.

Ten minutes later, Seungcheol is on his butt in the middle of the rink, with Jihoon nearby, clutching his stomach as he tries to stop laughing.

“I told you,” Jihoon struggles to speak between giggles, “move slowly first,”

“But you can do it!” Seungcheol protests, and watches as Jihoon smirks and smoothly skates a small circle in front of him.

“But you’re not me, Seungcheol,” Jihoon grins. He glides over and takes Seungcheol’s hands, pulling him to his feet. “Come on, let’s go again,”

Seungcheol grumbles, but doesn’t complain as Jihoon’s lithe fingers wrap around his. He just smiles, watching Jihoon as the younger talks about footwork and co-ordination, eyes animated and expression excited. He snaps out of his daze when he almost falls over though, Jihoon crying out in surprise as they both stumble.

As he rights himself, they both share shocked looks before bursting into laughter. It makes his heart feel warm.

Jihoon watches Seungcheol struggle with the skates, crying out and cursing whenever he goes too fast or almost falls over. It reminds him of the Seungcheol he met in primary school, dated in high school, and loved in college. The one he married, who he wanted to spend forever with. It’s the Seungcheol that’s like a giant puppy, craving attention and reassurance, who’s always too excited, but fiercely loyal and protective of those he cares about.

Jihoon closes his eyes for a moment and smiles serenely to himself in the middle of the ice-skating rink.

This is the Seungcheol he remembered, the one he wanted to remember. This is the Seungcheol he will remember in his heart, even when Seungcheol is no longer by his side.

They eat at a local cafe and Seungcheol keeps reaching across the table to feed Jihoon bits of his meal, insisting it’s good. Jihoon just chews the offered pieces with a scowl, before mirroring him and giving Seungcheol part of his lunch too. In contrast, Seungcheol beams in response to the food given.

Next door to the cafe is a ice-cream shop and Seungcheol drags Jihoon in with bright eyes, like an excited child. Jihoon rolls his eyes as Seungcheol orders his favourite and Jihoon orders his usual vanilla.

Outside, the sun is shining brightly and they sit on the grass of the park opposite. It’s situated on a slight hill, leading to a larger area of grass at the bottom of the hill, where kids are playing soccer and flying kites.

Seungcheol chooses a patch of grass and they sit side by side and watch everything at the bottom of the hill as they eat their ice-cream.

Seungcheol talks about the days they used to spend outside in the parks, playing and running around, like the young teenagers they were. Jihoon hums along, and eats his ice-cream quietly. Honestly, he’s only half listening, the memories replaying in his head. Seungcheol is talking about the last time they played the tag ripping game and made half the group pay for their snacks. Soonyoung had tried to hide, but Jeonghan had chased him down when they found him.

Jihoon laughs, eyes scrunched closed, as he recalls the memory. He turns, eyes opening in surprise, as he feels something touch the corner of his mouth. It’s Seungcheol, thumb against the corner of his mouth, wiping at what must have been some ice-cream at the edge of his mouth. It’s such an affectionate gesture, Jihoon finds himself stunned into stillness.

“You… had ice-cream,” Seungcheol says slowly, like he’s only just processing his actions too. Jihoon merely feels the blood rush to his head, heart fluttering in his chest as he looks away.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon sees Seungcheol laugh. The hand at his face gently cups his cheek, bringing him closer, until Seungcheol can press their lips together in a kiss. Jihoon gets a taste of Seungcheol’s cherry ice-cream. He can’t remember if it was always this sweet.

“Cute,” Seungcheol murmurs, a happy smile on his face, like he’s been given a reward.

Jihoon hides the blush on his face by putting his ice-cream cup down and pulling him back, almost a little too hard, their mouths crashing together.

Seungcheol laughs as they try to readjust, and moves his hands to Jihoon’s waist, pulling until he’s in Seungcheol’s lap, their chests pressed together as Jihoon flails to not fall completely against the older.

Seungcheol just smiles and holds him close, kissing him deeply, like it’s all he knows. Jihoon struggles to catch his breath in between kisses, hands on Seungcheol’s shoulder as he’s kissed again and again.

Jihoon is too distracted when Seungcheol tugs his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, but he jolts when he feels the hand against his skin. Seungcheol’s hands are warm, but against Jihoon’s lower back, it’s almost cold. When Jihoon jumps, he accidentally leans against Seungcheol’s shoulder more, and the two of them fall back onto the grass with giddy laughter.

“Sorry,” Jihoon chuckles as he tries to get up, but Seungcheol doesn’t let him, holding him against his chest. Seungcheol answers him with another kiss, as if words fail him. Jihoon responds easily.

“Should we head home?” Jihoon asks some time later, in between kisses. Seungcheol doesn’t answer, just continues kissing along the line of Jihoon’s jaw.

“Seungcheol, I'm getting cold," Jihoon says. The sun has gone behind clouds and the wind is beginning to get chilly.

"I'll keep you warm, babe," Seungcheol says, winking. Jihoon rolls his eyes.

"Cheesy lines and a hand up my shirt doesn't keep me warm. Let's go home,"

"Okay, but only if we can put on a movie and totally ignore it," Seungcheol breathes, kissing him again.

Jihoon laughs loudly, Seungcheol thinks it’s beautiful, and they do exactly that.

Seungcheol wakes up from their afternoon nap to Jihoon climbing over his legs to flop on top of him - purposely elbowing him in the stomach in the process.

“Brat,” Seungcheol scowls, but it’s fond, and Jihoon grins.

The smile fades quickly, but before Seungcheol can ask what’s wrong, Jihoon shifts and slaps papers onto Seungcheol’s face.

“What is it?” Seungcheol grumbles, pulling the offensive papers from his face. _Application for Divorce_ stares back at him.

He looks at Jihoon, eyes wide. The boy has sat back, though he’s still straddling Seungcheol’s stomach, loose shorts pressed to either side of his hips.

“I signed it,” Jihoon says, but he won’t look at Seungcheol. “Thirty days are over,” Jihoon bites his lip as his gaze flickers to Seungcheol’s face, just for a second. “Thanks, Seungcheol,” his voice is so quiet, Seungcheol barely catches it. But neither of them miss the sadness in Jihoon’s voice.

Before Seungcheol can say anything, Jihoon is climbing off, disappearing out of their bedroom, the soft sounds of his footsteps padding through the apartment.

Seungcheol sits up and stares at the papers in his hands. On the last page, there are two familiar signatures on dotted lines.

He forgot that this was temporary - it was just for thirty days, to say goodbye to their marriage, their time as lovers, as best friends.

Now that it’s time to actually say goodbye. Seungcheol isn't sure he can anymore.

After Jihoon hands Seungcheol the papers, everything changes. Everything becomes more awkward, everything stilted - like it was before the thirty days. Seungcheol tries to keep up the warmth of before, but he hesitates to touch Jihoon, hand hovering awkwardly before it retracts, never having reached its intended destination.

Jihoon's smile is more tense and Seungcheol walks around like the floor is made of eggshells.

Seungcheol doesn’t hold him that night. Jihoon faces the wall and pulls the blanket closer around him to counter the missing warmth.

The next morning is Monday. Seungcheol leaves for work at six-thirty, as he always has. Jihoon pretends he's still asleep when Seungcheol’s side of the bed dips, as he slips out of bed silently.

When the front door closes quietly behind him, Jihoon soundlessly gets up to go to the bathroom. On his way back to bed, he notices the divorce papers that Seungcheol had left on the kitchen table the night before are gone. He took them with him.

Jihoon tries not to let the cold feeling trickle into his chest. He reminds himself to breathe. He knew this was going to happen. He allowed it, by signing the document and giving it to Seungcheol.

Jihoon climbs back into bed and pulls the blanket around him until he’s surrounded by the warmth Seungcheol has left behind, his scent lingering.

He’s going to have to find another apartment when he comes home from work. He’ll have to pack all his things - figure out what is his, what is Seungcheol’s, and divide up what is, _was_ , “theirs”.

He's going to forget things, he knows it. There’s too many things integrated into the apartment and their lifestyle to be able to separate “Jihoon” from “Seungcheol” so easily.

Jihoon wonders if Seungcheol will miss him when he finds them, maybe even months later. A quiet voice in his head whispers a mocking, “No.”

He curls up into the blanket and wills himself not to cry.


	15. fifteen

Seungcheol sits in the car outside the courtroom, where he’s to lodge the document. He's got half an hour until the court closes. He left work early to lodge it, but it's been an hour and he hasn't gotten out of the car.

In his hands, he holds the power to end his connection to Jihoon forever. At least, the most meaningful connection - the one that would probably cut everything between them, because no matter what they claimed, they couldn’t be friends after this. It was an all-or-nothing kind of thing with Jihoon.

Seungcheol pulls out his phone and stares at the wallpaper. He only really looks at his phone to answer calls or to check for meetings, but he now realises he hasn’t changed his wallpaper in years.

It’s still a picture of their two hands, matching wedding bands gleaming in warm summer sun. He remembers taking the photo with Jihoon, the two of them setting it as their wallpaper at the same time. He wonders whether Jihoon ever changed it.

After a moment, he calls one of the few numbers he knows by heart. It rings and rings and rings, then Jihoon’s voicemail comes up. Seungcheol calls again, listening to Jihoon’s ringtone - the first song they made together. Seungcheol laughs to himself that Jihoon, a nationwide famous composer and producer, famous for countless hit songs in the past few years, still has his ringtone as one of his first works - made with his then-boyfriend using second-hand, third-grade equipment in their dorm.

By the seventh ring, Jihoon finally answers, snapping out a grumpy, “What?!” and Seungcheol feels the fondness swirling in his chest again. He forgot all the little things he knows - like how Jihoon hates being interrupted at work. He remembers how he used to be terrified of Jihoon when he’s grouchy from getting interrupted when he’s focused.

“Do you know it’ll be seven years tomorrow?” Seungcheol asks, looking at the blue sky outside. There isn’t a cloud in sight.

Jihoon’s sigh is audibly annoyed. “Seungcheol, I don’t have time for this right now - ”

“Did you know that you can forget something as burning, as consuming, as love?” Seungcheol takes a deep breath. He doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but, like the time he proposed, he knows there’s only one answer that makes sense. “Did you know that you can forget how to feel that, because you lose your sense of direction and your sense of purpose? That you can lose all of that.... when you think you’re losing the one who gave you those?” He pauses, takes a breath. “I thought I was losing you, Jihoon. I thought there was nothing left of us anymore.”

Jihoon is quiet, and Seungcheol rambles on.

“I forgot, Jihoon. I forgot so much, but in the last thirty days, I remembered what it was like again. I remembered how much love I felt when we met, when we dated, when we got married. I feel it again.”

“But now I don’t know. What will happen from now on? We’re going back to work, and then what? Will we be like how we were before? Will we just be ghosts in the apartment to each other again? If so, then I should just lodge this application. I should let us walk our own ways and move on in life. But if there’s even the slightest chance we can be like before…. then I think I might want to give it a chance.”

Seungcheol hears Jihoon’s breath hitch over the phone and he forces himself to continue.

“But I’m not the only one in this marriage, and for a long time I’ve been selfish. I’ve looked for the easy way out and only ever thought of myself - so I’m asking you, Jihoon. Do you want to give us another chance? Do you have it in you to keep trying? Because we promised each other for the rest of our lives, and hopefully it’ll never get this bad again, but there will be difficult times, and I want to know if you are willing to go through all that, with me.”

A silence spins out and Seungcheol waits for the “Of course,” and the “I’ll always be with you,”. But he freezes when he realises that what he's said makes it difficult for Jihoon to say no, and Jihoon had been the one who offered up the papers with his signature on it for Seungcheol to take. Jihoon had practically told Seungcheol he wanted the divorce too.

The flare of hope in Seungcheol’s chest extinguishes instantly.

“I understand. I’m sorry, Jihoon. I’m sorry for the last few years. I hope the memories have been good - ”

“You should know by now, Seungcheol,” Jihoon’s voice is soft, almost airy, “that you can’t assume anything from my silence,” Seungcheol panics as Jihoon’s voice goes shaky. Did he make Jihoon cry? A laugh and a hiccup and Seungcheol feels like running to him. What has he done?! “I’m sorry too.” A quivering breath. “I don’t want to go back to ghosts in the apartment either. I think we were going to quit before we even tried, but I thought it was too late, that’s why I signed the documents. But if you want to try again..… then I do too. I want to give it a chance, give us a chance. I want to try again.”

Seungcheol doesn’t realise he’s crying until his eyes close in relief and the tears roll down his cheeks to a relieved smile, shaking laughter coming out in short gasps.

On the other side of the phone, Jihoon is laughing between hiccups too.

“Can I see you?” Seungcheol says, already turning his engine back on, “I know you’re at work, but I need to see you - ”

“An hour. I’ll finish this recording and - ” Jihoon’s voice cuts off as another voice murmurs softly beside him.

Suddenly there’s a shuffle of noise and another voice fills the phone. “Yah, Choi Seungcheol, how dare you cause my producer so much grief,”

Seungcheol feels the laughter bubble up instantly. “Hi, Yejin-noona,” he says, “I forgot you and Jihoon still work together,”

A huff on the other end of the line. “He’s crying, and laughing, and looks like he’s going to go crazy fidgeting. We can’t record like this, so I’m going to reschedule.” A pause and Seungcheol can just imagine the fond smile on her face. “You owe me, Seungcheol, but you owe Jihoon a whole lot more, so you’d better make it up to him,”

Seungcheol smiles. “I will,” he says softly, but they can both hear the quiet resolution in his words.

“Good,” Yejin laughs. “He's glaring at me, so I'll give the phone back. Yah, you call me too, okay? We haven't caught up in years,”

“I should be the priority though,” Jihoon’s voice is loud enough for Seungcheol to hear through the phone and he laughs brightly.

“Are you laughing at me?” Jihoon’s voice comes through clearly now and Seungcheol struggles to smother his laughter.

“I love you,” he chuckles, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. It's only when he hears the sharp intake of breath he realises what he's said. He hasn't said those words in years. Jihoon clearly realises too.

There's breathless laughter and then, “I love you, too.”

Seungcheol's heart has never felt so light.

Jihoon looks down as he scuffs his sneakers against the worn concrete and tries not to pout. What's taking Seungcheol so long? He's getting bored waiting.

He jumps when arms wrap around his neck, enveloping him completely. Jihoon recognises the cologne before anything else and he laughs soundlessly against Seungcheol’s shoulder, arms moving to wrap around him.

For a long moment, they just stand there, holding each other and occasionally laughing; probably in disbelief that they almost got divorced. But they didn't, and they still have each other.

Seungcheol is warm and sturdy in his embrace, and Jihoon relishes the feeling. Eventually, Seungcheol lets go and Jihoon lets go too, looking up at him uncertainly. Seungcheol looks tired, the same way he has the last couple of months, but he's got that sappy, happy smile on his face that makes him look like a puppy, and Jihoon feels love wrap around his heart like climbing vines.

“I got you coffee,” Seungcheol says, “I figured you didn't sleep much.” He hands Jihoon a still warm take away cup and Jihoon can see his order written on top. His usual. They haven't gotten coffee together in years, but Seungcheol still remembers his order. Jihoon smiles.

A warm hand touches his cheek and Jihoon looks up to find Seungcheol staring at him with such a gentle look in his eyes, Jihoon almost blushes and looks away. But before he can, Seungcheol tilts his chin up and leans in to kiss him chastely, sweetly. This time, Jihoon knows it’s lovingly too.

“Home?” Seungcheol asks when they pull apart, Jihoon looking dazed when he opens his eyes.

Jihoon smiles and takes Seungcheol’s hand with his, fingers tangling together easily.

“Home.”


	16. bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: this takes place just after the final chapter. it was largely self indulgent, but everyone seemed to want it (at the original time of posting) so here you go hahahaha  
> alternative chapter title was the kissing face emoji, but I don't think that works

The walk home is full of giddy grins and quick kisses at stop lights, the two of them pulling away with shy smiles and twinkling eyes.

As soon as they step into the elevator of their apartment complex, Seungcheol turns to Jihoon, hands in his hair, mouths connected, like he’s going to collapse if he doesn’t get to kiss Jihoon properly.

“We have to press the button first,” Jihoon laughs as he tries to escape. Seungcheol makes a face but lets him reach over to press their floor before pulling him back. Jihoon is pressed into the corner, Seungcheol’s arm around his waist, other hand in his hair, keeping him close as he kisses him over and over again.

With a ‘ding!’ the elevator arrives and Jihoon kicks Seungcheol in the shin to get free, pulling him into the corridor with a bell-like laugh. Seungcheol totters after him, looking like he’s in a daze as he grips Jihoon’s hand tightly.

Seungcheol just holds him from behind as Jihoon opens the door with slightly shaky hands, ignoring Seungcheol’s nose pressed against the back of his neck. They stumble inside, a mess of limbs and quiet laughter cut off by kisses. The front door closes behind Jihoon as Seungcheol presses him against it, every part of their bodies touching. Jihoon feels like he’s on fire, and Seungcheol’s cool hands against his skin is dousing it, only to leave behind scorching heat when they move.

Seungcheol’s mouth moves to his neck and Jihoon lets his head fall back against the wood, trying to remember how to breathe again. He can’t remember words, only managing breathy exhales of curses or Seungcheol’s name.

Seungcheol seems to appreciate it though, fingers pressing into the flesh of his hips as he leaves marks against the pale skin of Jihoon’s neck.

When was the last time they kissed like this? Jihoon can’t remember. He can’t find enough brain capacity to try to think more.

He’s pulled out of his stupor by both of Seungcheol’s warm hands holding his face. He opens his eyes to find Seungcheol incredibly close, their foreheads pressed together. Seungcheol is breathing raggedly, breath fanning over his lips that are still tingling.

“Jihoon,” he whispers, “I love you,” and Jihoon can feel his heart stumble in his chest. Seungcheol must be able to tell because he closes his eyes, laughs, and says it again, and again, and again.

“I am so in love with you, Lee Jihoon,” he says and kisses him again, this time less hungry and desperate. It’s sweet and lingering, hands holding Jihoon’s face like it’s the only thing grounding him. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says between peppering kisses all over Jihoon’s face, making the younger laugh, wriggling in his grasp.

“Sap,” Jihoon murmurs when Seungcheol finally pulls back to look at him again. “I love you too, Seungcheol,”

Seungcheol’s response is to let out a breathless laugh and crash their mouths together again, murmuring a soft apology when the back of Jihoon’s head hits the door. Jihoon huffs, and Seungcheol peppers his face with more kisses until Jihoon is laughing and trying to push him away.

“Seungcheol, stop, come on we have things to do,” Jihoon says, even though he’s biting his lip and trying to smooth out his crumpled shirt.

“Like what?” Seungcheol asks, nosing at Jihoon’s neck, inhaling that smell that is uniquely his.

Jihoon runs his hands through Seungcheol’s hair. “Groceries, and cleaning, and unpacking what I tried to pack this morning - ”

“You started packing this morning?” Seungcheol asks, pulling away, expression concerned.

Jihoon gives him a tired smile. “You took the divorce papers. What else was I supposed to think?”

Seungcheol sighs, resting his forehead on Jihoon’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. Jihoon laughs softly and runs his hands through his hair.

“It’s okay. We’re here now, right?”

Seungcheol lifts his head to see Jihoon’s eyes crinkled from his smile.

“We’re here now,” Seungcheol agrees, gently pressing his lips to Jihoon’s. “And we have a lot of making up to do,”

Jihoon frowns. “What do you mean?”

Seungcheol smirks and Jihoon’s heart flops about helplessly from where it’s lying somewhere near the vicinity of his stomach.

“I mean, we should move out of the doorway and do a lot less talking with a lot less clothes,” he grins. Jihoon can’t help it - he turns bright red.

Seungcheol laughs before leaning in to bump their noses together, smirking again when Jihoon just blushes more. Seungcheol kisses him softly, chastely, before taking his hand and pulling him to the bedroom, closing the door behind them.


	17. epilogue

“Hello?”

“Cheol-hyung!” Soonyoung chirps brightly and he hears Seungcheol laugh.

“Hi, Soonyoung, what’s up?”

“Can I come over to visit? I never did get to see the apartment, and Seokmin said you had a really cool sound system,” Soonyoung says.

Seungcheol laughs again and they arrange to meet up that weekend. Soonyoung hangs up with a deep sigh, biting his lip, expression troubled.

Soonyoung fidgets outside the door. He said he wanted to visit the apartment and look at the sound system, but he really wanted to check up on Seungcheol. It would be a week since the divorce now, and Soonyoung figures he should check on his two closest friends.

Seungcheol is more likely to accept his worrying, so Soonyoung is visiting him first. He doesn’t know where Jihoon is staying now anyway.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to feel knowing Jihoon used to live in this apartment too.

Seungcheol opens the door with a bright smile.

“Hey, Soonyoung. Come on in,” Seungcheol waves him in and Soonyoung manages a small smile.

“How are you, hyung?” Soonyoung asks, trying to sound casual.

“Pretty good,” Seungcheol says and starts talking about work, but Soonyoung isn’t really listening. He’s noticing the way Seungcheol is smiling brightly again, how he really does seem good, seems happy. Maybe the divorce really was what Seungcheol needed? Soonyoung’s heart is happy that Seungcheol is doing well, but it hurts that it’s the absence of Jihoon that’s causing it.

But then Soonyoung steps into the living room and sees Jihoon lying across the couch, scrolling on his laptop. He looks up as Soonyoung walks in and gives him a smile.

Soonyoung drops the bottle of soft drink he bought.

Seungcheol rushes to grab it to make sure it doesn’t explode all over their wooden floor.

“J-Jihoon?!” Soonyoung splutters, gaping.

“Hi,” Jihoon says, getting up from the couch and padding over to him.

“But - you - he - I - ” Soonyoung looks between Jihoon in front of him and Seungcheol in the kitchen.

Jihoon smiles at him. “We’re not divorced, if that’s what you thought. We almost did, but we didn’t,”

Seungcheol walks into the living room with the soft drink and three cups, and Soonyoung grabs them both around the neck and pulls them into a crushing hug. Jihoon’s arms are flailing by his side and Seungcheol is trying to make sure he doesn’t accidentally pour soft drink on anyone, but the two of them are laughing at Soonyoung who is now sniffling between them.

When Soonyoung finally lets go of them, Seungcheol puts the drinks down and Jihoon hands Soonyoung tissues.

Soonyoung just ends up hugging him tightly again and Seungcheol has to pry him off before Jihoon suffocates.

The three of them squish on the couch and Soonyoung asks what happened. The two of them exchange looks before explaining the thirty days and then what happened the day after. Seungcheol has his arm around Jihoon’s shoulder the whole time and Soonyoung smiles at the familiarity.

When Jihoon’s laptop beeps to signal its low battery from the coffee table, Soonyoung catches a glimpse of the screen before Seungcheol takes it away to charge.

“Jihoon… on your screen…” he mumbles, not sure if he was meant to see the advertisement for a studio for rent. Was Jihoon still moving out or something??

“Oh,” Jihoon tugs on the sleeve of his jumper as Seungcheol returns to the couch, arm going around Jihoon’s shoulders again. “I’m trying to find my own studio. I’m not going to renew my contract when it ends next month,”

Soonyoung stares at him. “But you’re the top producer at Wishing Star. There isn’t a higher paid job in the industry!”

Jihoon smiles almost ruefully. “Yeah, that’s true, but even though their renewal offered a higher salary, it required higher turnover and longer hours - I’d be compromising the quality of my work, as well as more of my life,”

Soonyoung chews his lip, thinking it over. “So what’s next? Another entertainment company?”

“No,” Jihoon smiles at Seungcheol. “I’m going to go solo,”

“Solo?!”

“Freelance is probably the better term,” Seungcheol says and Jihoon shrugs.

“It’ll give me more freedom and flexibility, and let me stay home when I need to,” Jihoon says. “Maybe even work from home too,”

“I guess then you guys get to spend more time together,” Soonyoung says, looking at the two of them with a warm smile.

“Well, uhm, actually… about that...” Jihoon glances at Seungcheol, who merely smiles and nods at him, encouraging him to continue. Jihoon takes a deep breath and continues, “Well, uh, we were thinking of becoming a family after it’s all settled? There’s this adorable four year old boy at an orphanage in the east part of Seoul….”

Jihoon doesn’t get to finish, because Soonyoung starts screaming and Jihoon actually flinches, Seungcheol holding onto him as he chuckles at Soonyoung’s antics. Their friend is now jumping up and down in the middle of their living room.

Jihoon laughs softly against Seungcheol’s side. Suddenly, Soonyoung stops his jumping and rushes over to them, placing his hands on Jihoon’s knees, faces so close their noses are almost touching.  
“I dibs favourite uncle,” he says, very seriously.

Jihoon loses it, nearly falling off the couch as he laughs hysterically. Seungcheol just grins and holds onto Jihoon as he says, “Isn’t that for the kid to decide?”

Soonyoung pouts, but he can’t help the smile that comes to his face as he sees Seungcheol looking at Jihoon with so much love and affection, and Jihoon looking back with just as much adoration.  
He had entered the apartment feeling cold and a little empty, but now there’s a warmth in his chest like a blossoming flower; because two of his closest friends are happy, and they’re happy together.

He can’t ask for much more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: there is a sequel (this is how we grow old) which is the next work in this 'series', or you can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972090)
> 
> in my original author notes I had a very long cheesy message, which still applies.
> 
> I took this prompt, and wrote the whole fic, as a practice for a pairing that I was (at the time) not very familiar with. I did not expect to get as much reception as it did, and I was incredibly humbled at the original time of posting, and I am still humbled now by the amount of response I have received from this fic.
> 
> Thank you so much for giving me love and support for writing which gives me great joy to do.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always loved and appreciated, and you can always come find me on twitter @neoragodestiny.
> 
> Thank you so, so much.


End file.
